


the execution of all things

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F, interns au 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>follows portions for foxes. title from rilo kiley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ask a writer, again

“This is Vause.”

“Where are you, man?”

Alex rolls her eyes, adjusting her earpiece. “Nichols, I’m driving,” she says, gripping the wheel tighter. She hates driving; it’s why she chose to live in the area in the first place. But then again – an assignment’s an assignment. “Can I call you later?”

Nicky groans on the other end of the line. “God, Alex. Of all days to be out of the office, you choose _this one day._ ”

For a moment, Alex is confused. She looks at her phone on the dashboard, sees the date and thinks: _No shit._ “Is that _today_?”

“As we have been repeatedly discussing _all week._ ”

Alex sighs. “I don’t get to choose the writing assignments I get thrown at, all right?”

“Bullshit,” Nicky says, laughing. Alex bites the inside of her cheek, keeping herself from laughing along. She understands what Nicky’s saying – Alex has been around long enough to say no, true, but it’s not like she’ll ever turn an interesting assignment down. “You’ve been saying _yes_ to Travel all month.”

“They’re all _good_ stories,” Alex says.

“Yeah, Ingrid says hello.” Now Alex has to bite down on her tongue. “What is the score between the two of you?”

“There is _no score,_ ” Alex sighs. “Ingrid and I are friends. Do we really have to do this while I’m driving?” Dating Ingrid has only one rule: Ingrid does not date. And Alex is fine with that, all things considered. Not that she’s itching to announce it out loud either.

Nicky grumbles before saying, “Fine. But it does look like you’re missing Ask A Writer again.”

“Yep,” Alex nods, noting a highway sign that says the exit she’s taking is only 500 meters away. “Listen, I have to go.”

“You wanna join via Twitter hashtag?”

“ _Bye_ Nicky.”

*

That Nicky is excited about this year’s Intern Season is not surprising, considering the year the company is about to have: Forty years in September, and, just as Bill had hinted at over Christmas, the first three quarters are going to be, as Boo put it mildly: _Hell._

And so it is clear to Alex that the Grand Bang Off is far from everyone’s mind – and that Nicky is, in fact, just excited to gather some forces to slave-drive for her section’s preparations. _The pretty ones would just be icing,_ Alex thinks, reaching her destination finally.

It’s an overcast day, but it does not detract in the least from this place’s charm. _Ingrid sure knows how to pick them._ She reaches into her glove compartment for her briefing materials, leafing through them as she dials the contact’s cell. She’s half an hour early for their appointment, which means she has time to move around the premises and take some photos with her phone.

 _Photos._ Alex breathes in deeply. Things have never really fully recovered with Lily, and it’s still among Alex’s regrets – that, and the fact that she’d been more or less blacklisted since the Photo Editor went on an educational sabbatical and left Lily in charge of deployment. It’s all so _juvenile,_ and they both know it, but then again, so was Alex’s infamous non-appearance after _that_ Big Event.

All taken into consideration, Alex accepts that she had that coming. It’s been years, but deep in her gut, Alex knows it’s close to irreparable. _And so I’m out here taking photos with my phone._ Not the most efficient thing but it gets things done.

One of the resort staff leads her to the interview venue – a second-floor wooden deck with a spectacular sea view. Alex slides her phone out and takes a few shots, for a moment stunned by the sight.

“You must have seen hundreds of views just like this.”

Alex tries to remember the name on the card that Ingrid had given her, before turning around with her game face on. “I always try to look with fresh eyes,” she says, eyeing her interviewee. _Ingrid sure knows how to pick them, indeed._ “My name’s Alex.”

“So Ingrid has told me,” her interviewee replies, shaking Alex’s hand. “Name’s Martine. Hope Ingrid has spoken about me.”

 _Not as much as I had hoped she would,_ Alex thinks. “She has,” Alex says. “Though I think she left out a _lot_ of things.”

“That can be arranged,” says Martine, smiling. “We got all day.”

*

“You fucker,” is how Nicky greets Alex later that night, passing by Alex’s cubicle before heading out for dinner. “So _that’s_ why you skipped The Intern Reaping this morning.”

Alex tugs at her earphones, looking up from her transcription. “The _what_ now?”

“The _Reaping._ Get it? Volunteers!” Nicky laughs, thoroughly pleased with herself.

“ _Very_ funny,” says Alex dryly. “Also, _what_?”

Nicky rolls her eyes. “Saw the teaser you posted earlier,” she says. “Ingrid has the _hottest_ friends.”

“Hazards of the job,” says Alex, smirking. “Lovely resort as well.”

“Saw the view,” Nicky says, eyeing her screen. “That due this weekend?”

“Not yet, though I want to put this away as soon as possible. I’m one article short for _my pages_ this weekend.”

“Yikes,” Nicky says, making a face. “How did _that_ happen?”

Alex shrugs. “Ah, well. Too many roadtrips.”

“Hazards of the job, eh?” Alex nods, taking one of the earbuds. Nicky takes it as a sign that she should leave her alone. “So. Drinks when you’re able?”

“After closing, maybe?”

“Maybe. Don’t overwork yourself to death, Vause.” And with a couple of taps against the cubicle door, Nicky gets out of her sight.

*

Alex meets Boo and Nicky as promised after Friday night’s closing at Queens. She finds them already seated by the bar when she arrives, and they each greet her with a high five.

“You look like shit, Vause,” says Boo. “Your first drink’s on me.”

Alex just rolls her eyes. She’d spent the last eighteen hours trying to speed-close _three_ pages – there’s simply no way around looking like absolute shit, and damn, does she need a drink or what? _Whatever gets me the free drink then,_ she just thinks _._ “How generous of you,” she tells Boo. “You miss me?”

“Hey, what about me?” Nicky chimes in, slapping a hand down on the bar. “I look like shit too.”

Boo turns to her slowly. “Fine,” she says. “ _Half_ your first drink is on me.”

“Is this a height thing? Because if this is a height thing—”

Alex laughs. “Jesus, the two of you,” she says, draping an arm around their shoulders. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this but I _sort of_ missed you.”

Nicky gives her a playful shove. “That’s what you get for holing up in your batcave for consecutive Fridays.”

“Yeah, what was up with that Vause? You jumping ship from Entrep to Travel now?”

 _Here we go._ “I’m just doing Ingrid a favor.”

“ _Favors_ ,” says Nicky. “Just how many Travel bylines have you had in the last three weeks? Five?”

“Seven,” Alex corrects quietly. “They’re good stories, okay? Good stories from good people that need to be told.”

“Not going to argue, storyteller,” says Boo. “Just saying – three to four pages to put to bed weekly _and_ Travel story assignments every other day? How are you even _dividing_ yourself for all these tasks _outside_ of intern season?”

Alex is still thinking about her answer when their drinks arrive, so she takes a moment longer to think while she drinks. “Well--”

“I’m just saying— _pace_ yourself, Alex,” Nicky says, clinking her beer bottle against Alex’s on the bar. “You’ve been looking so exhausted lately.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” says Alex, taking another sip from her beer. “Martine was my last assignment, okay? Ingrid just needed some back up, and I’ve always wanted to do something _Travel_ —”

“You mean, apart from the editor.”

“ _Nicky._ ”

Nicky laughs. “I waited a _long_ time for the perfect execution of that line, just so you know.”

Alex shakes her head before giving into a small laugh herself. Nicky spares no one, and Alex knows this for a fact. “I’ve told you—there’s nothing here,” she says. “Ingrid and I are friends. Believe what you want, but just – don’t let her overhear you discussing such ridiculous gossip.”

“Don’t let her _overhear?_ ” Boo repeats. “Is Alex Vause concerned about her _reputation_?”

A younger Alex would have readily said no – _Fuck reputation,_ she would have said. _Skills trump reputation._ Alex stares into her beer bottle before emptying it. She’s no longer that younger Alex, and at this point in her life, she’s coming to terms with the fact that while reputation isn’t everything, it also isn’t _nothing_.

“Hey _Alex,_ ” Nicky says, nudging her elbow. “Jesus fuck, are you zoning out? You should get a massage this weekend or something.”

Alex blinks, sighing. “I’m right here,” she says, though truth be told she feels only half-present. “And yes, I care about _reputation_ – I say this as someone who’s made far too many enemies lately.”

Tthe expressions on Boo and Nicky’s faces soften instantly. They know _exactly_ what Alex is talking about. “That thing with Lily’s still off, huh?” asks Nicky.

“How much longer is she sitting as OIC anyway?”

Alex shrugs. “Two, three months more? Entrep has been managing through contributed photos.”

“That really sucks,” says Boo. “When is the _child_ growing up?”

“I don’t know,” says Alex. “Soon. I hope.”

Boo sighs loudly. “Well, the sooner the better. Have you heard about Bill’s plans for this year’s anniversary?”

“I heard there’s going to be a meeting, but no details.”

Boo laughs, rolling her sleeves up like she’s preparing for some heavy lifting. “Check this out,” she begins, leaning closer. “I was talking with Fischer the other day – shooting the breeze, et cetera – and I _heard_ Bill’s plans are going to be so _massive_ they’re hiring someone else _specifically_ to oversee the entire she-bang.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” Nicky says. “Well. I suppose that’s the main learning from the _last time_ they did something like that, no?”

Alex tries not to remember too much – the _Last Time_ is really nothing but Piper to her, and, truth be told, after all this time something still _stings_. Kind of.

“I hope Bill gets a good project manager, whatever the magnitude of this event,” Alex just says.

Nicky nods. “How do you think is he planning to level-up from five years ago, eh? Kinda hard to top that.”

“There’s a multiplatform meeting on Monday – I suppose that’s on the agenda,” says Boo. “Which means we could take this weekend and relax for a bit—before the torture starts, right Vause?”

“Sounds about right,” Alex says. Given that she’s already finished her Martine feature, she really _does_ have a wide open weekend – something she generally dislikes. _Idle hands are wasted hands_.

“How are you spending this weekend, Alex?”

Alex turns to Nicky before sighing. “Sleeping, probably.”

*

Alex waits for both Nicky and Boo to get into their respective cabs before heading home, hand in pocket feeling for her phone. On a cold night like this, it’s impossible not to think of Ingrid and her warm bed.

Truth be told, Alex doesn’t want to keep doing this – call Ingrid at unholy hours just to be with _someone._ It’s unbecoming, and there are times when Alex doesn’t feel like herself at all, but oh, how Ingrid just _draws_ her. It’s hard to pinpoint why – is it the whole incognito thing? The nonexistent commitment threat? Is it all just animal attraction?

 _Oh, fuck this._ After a moment’s hesitation, Alex finally decides to slide her phone out and dial Ingrid’s number – not a drunk dial, per se, considering how suddenly sober she now feels, standing out here in the cold.

Ingrid answers after two rings, her voice still thick with sleep. “Alex?”

“Hey.”

“It’s late. You’re still up?”

Alex stares at her boots, examining the gravel underneath. “I’m still out.”

“It’s freezing out,” says Ingrid.

“It is.”

There’s a pause on Ingrid’s end. Alex imagines her in her sleepwear, a hand running through her disheveled hair. It takes a while before Ingrid finally says: “I could think of warmer places to be.”

Alex smiles, pressing her phone closer to her ear. “You sure?”

“As sure as anyone could be at an ungodly hour like this,” Ingrid laughs. Some days, when Alex asks herself why she’s still here, all she has to do is remember how Ingrid sounds. “Are you drunk?”

“Sober enough to be _useful_ ,” Alex replies suggestively. That earns another soft laugh from Ingrid.

“Whatever that means,” Ingrid says. “I’ll put some coffee on. Don’t take too long.”

*

Ingrid’s apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from Queens – Alex usually makes the trip in under ten minutes while sober, but that night, Alex figures she’s going to cut herself some slack and walk slowly, like a normal person who isn’t too obsessed with deadlines would.

Ingrid comes to the door in her familiar rose-colored robe and greets Alex with a sleepy smile. “Hey you,” she says softly, opening the door wider and taking Alex’s hand. “Coffee?”

Alex shrugs her coat off before moving in to kiss her, hands threading into Ingrid’s hair and brushing against the skin of her neck. Ingrid lets out a small yelp.

“Sorry,” Alex blinks, jerking back. “Did I—”

“No, I—” Ingrid begins, catching her breath. “Your hands are cold.”

“Oops.” Alex smiles sheepishly, rubbing her hands together. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right.” Ingrid holds Alex by her shoulders firmly, keeping her at a distance. “I was asking if you wanted coffee.”

“Thought I’d skip it,” Alex says, trying to move back in but Ingrid just tightens her hold around her. Alex blinks, trying to focus. _What the fuck is up this time, Ing?_ she wants to ask, but her head feels too warm for _that_ conversation.

“Shame to waste good coffee,” Ingrid says, still smiling at her kindly. “Come on, Al.”

 _Al._ All this time she’s tried to associate the endearment with Ingrid _entirely,_ but all these years she has never fully succeeded. Sighing, she follows Ingrid into the kitchen.

Over coffee, Ingrid starts talking shop. Alex doesn’t mind; she can listen to Ingrid talking all day. Besides, it’s such a comfortable thing that some days, it’s what Alex comes over for. Sure, the sex is great; the thing with older women like Ingrid is that they just _know_ things. This thing here though -- the way Ingrid could talk to Alex candidly about work and writing, and the way Alex could, in turn, talk to Ingrid just as easily – there are times it all seems better than sex to Alex, actually.

“So. How did you find Martine?”

Alex takes a sip from her coffee mug before replying. “Her space is awesome,” she says carefully. Ingrid likes to say she has only one rule for dating, and that rule says she _doesn’t_ date, but even then, she still has that jealous streak which Alex has learned to navigate over the years.

“We used to play tennis,” Ingrid says. “That’s how her arms got so toned.”

 _And toned they were, indeed._ Alex bites down on her tongue. “Didn’t really notice,” she says instead.

“Really?”

“Really,” Alex says, lowering her cup. “Wasn’t really looking.”

Ingrid waits for her to catch her eye before calling her out. “You’re lying,” she says, smiling.

“Who’s lying?”

Ingrid lets out a little laugh, reaching over to touch Alex’s wrist on the table. “No, really. How did you find Martine?”

Alex groans. “Is this a trick question?”

“I’m serious,” says Ingrid. “I really want to know what you think of her.”

“Well,” Alex begins, swallowing hard. “I think she’s… _interesting_.” _The only safe answer there is._

“Interesting enough to date?”

 _Here we go again._ “Why do you keep setting me up with your friends, Ing?”

“Because I think you guys would get along.”

Alex rolls her eyes, turning her hand around to hold onto Ingrid’s on the table. “You always get jealous anyhow, in the event that we do.”

Ingrid pouts. “I do _not_ get jealous.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Alex says, smiling. “Besides – I don’t want to date your friends.”

“ _Alex._ ” It’s Ingrid’s turn to get that _Here we go again_ look in her eye, and Alex knows how this conversation usually ends. “You know my rule.”

 _It ends how it always has._ “You don’t date, I know,” says Alex. “And I’m fine with that, really, just – stop setting me up with your friends, okay?”

“I just want what’s best for you.” _Here she goes again._ She knows Ingrid’s spiel by heart already, yet every time, her heart still breaks a little. “You know the drill.”

Alex shrugs, finishing her coffee. “No strings attached.” She gets up from her chair and pulls her shirt over her head, like she’s saying, _Enough talk._ She walks right over to Ingrid, straddling her. Ingrid looks up, wrapping her hands around Alex’s waist.

“Just making sure--” she whispers, lips hovering just above Alex’s collarbone. “—we’ve got it all _clear._ ”

“Clear as day,” Alex just says, closing her eyes.

*

Bill has already begun speaking when Alex reaches the meeting room, still heaving from the early morning rush. _Monday,_ Alex groans inwardly, sliding into her seat at the far back. Bill acknowledges her with a curt nod.

“Glad to have you onboard, Ms Vause.”

“Good morning sir,” Alex greets, clearing her throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” says Bill, turning back to his presentation. “I was just getting started.”

“What did I miss?” Alex whispers to Nicky, who’s seated beside her, taking notes in her phone. Nicky just shrugs, nodding over to the front, like she’s telling Alex to pay attention.

In front, Bill gestures to the screen – it’s a photo of the last big event. Alex recognizes the photo’s POV quite painfully – it seems like it was taken from the war room. _Piper’s war room._ Alex pushes the thought away quickly, blinking. _Focus, Vause._

“Most of you remember our last big event, I hope,” Bill begins, pointing at the screen with a red laser dot. “This year, as we turn forty, we hope to replicate its success.” There’s a burst of applause led by Boo, who’s apparently seated at the front row. Nicky follows suit, hooting loudly until Bill shushes them both. “Thank you for your enthusiasm, Nicky and Boo. I hope you’d just be as enthusiastic when you find out about this year’s plans.”

“You’re killing us here, boss,” says Nicky from the back, and the crowd erupts in laughter. Bill himself chuckles.

“Patience,” he says, flipping his presentation to the next slide, which features an artist’s rendition of a grand ballroom. The room quiets down as they wait for Bill’s next move. “This year, we’re thinking of bringing The Show to a handful of our clients. So instead of having just One Big Show, we’re having a _series_ of Big Shows.”

 _What?_ Alex remembers how terribly hectic planning for that _one_ Big Event was – how much more toxic would it be when you’re planning several? Somewhere at the back of Alex’s head, something begins to throb. _Talk about leveling up._

“We’re happy to do this with our Travel section. Is Ingrid here?” Bill asks, before finding Ingrid in the far left side of the room. Ingrid stands and waves regally. Nicky starts elbowing Alex vigorously.

“What?” Alex whispers.

“This is going to be an interesting year, huh?” Nicky just says.

Alex sighs, shrugging Nicky off. “I’m trying to _focus_ here.”

Bill clears his throat, and Nicky backs off Alex as requested, palms up. “Anyway, as we were saying – Ingrid says our big event has had some very interesting responses from many sponsors,” says Bill, motioning for Ingrid to take the microphone. Alex can see how Ingrid begs off, still seated, smiling at Bill and mouthing “No” quietly. Restless chatter fills the room as they wait for the silent debate to finish.

Bill wins, eventually, leading the room in applause as he ushers Ingrid toward the front. Alex has to look away, trying to keep a smile in – shy, self-effacing, limelight-hating Ingrid is an easy favorite.

“So,” Ingrid begins, and when Alex looks back, she finds Ingrid looking right at her. “Me and my big mouth, I suppose.” A round of laughter erupts in the room, and Alex can’t help but laugh along. “I made the mistake of telling Bill just how much some hotel owners loved the idea of hosting the big event someday, and for the record, I only pitched _one._ ”

“Not going to take back the other four in the pipeline,” says Bill.

 _Five? What the hell?_ “You mean to say sir,” Alex interrupts, clearing her throat. “There are going to be _five_ events? _Five_ venues?”

 “That’s right,” says Bill.

“That’s all him,” Ingrid says from beside him.

At which point the room erupts in an uneasy round of laughter – like everyone knows it’s _insane_ but they also know there’s nothing stopping it anyhow. Alex hears soft groaning beside her. When she looks, Nicky just shakes her head, writing something down in her notebook.

“Come on guys, what’s a little challenge?” Bill says. “Besides – are you not excited to take this to the _beach?”_ There’s a round of cheering and hooting as Bill says it; even Nicky looks up, face lit.

“And _that’s_ the only one I pitched,” Ingrid chimes in, eyeing Alex as she speaks. Alex tries not to blush, though she could feel the warmth spreading easily from her neck upward. 

“ _Thank you,_ Ing,” Bill says. He turns his presentation back on, putting a map on the screen. There’s a square marker on last year’s venue, and another square somewhere near the coast. It’s a spot familiar to Alex; must be one of the venues she already did a feature on. “As you can see – five venues -- not _that_ hard,” Bill continues, pointing to the squares with a laser. “We’ve got two down. The other three should be familiar too.” When he clicks, the other three venues show up, one by one – there’s one up north, and the other two are indeed familiar. _Two hotels, one mall,_ Alex notes, jotting it down.

“This is crazy,” Boo says.

“Which is exactly what we are aiming for,” says Bill. Then, adopting a more serious tone: “And since it is an ambitious project, we’re making some strategic hires – we don’t want to burden Ingrid with _administratives_ while she’s taking over general editorial direction.” Applause greets this announcement as surprise washes over Ingrid’s face. “Looks like everyone’s happy with that.”

“Except me,” Ingrid says dryly, though she has a smile on her face as she speaks.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get a lot of help,” Bill says, and right there Alex knows almost immediately the _help_ he’s referring to. Dread and excitement start pooling dangerously in her gut. “You’ll work with the last event’s veterans – Vause, Nichols and Boo.”

Alex tries not to look too pleased, though she does not have to turn her head to see for herself how giddy the two other idiots are as well with that announcement.

“You said _strategic hires,_ ” Boo says, clearing her throat. “Could you elaborate on that?”

Bill smiles at her. “You never fail to make me feel like my own meetings are press conferences,” he says. Laughter fills the room again, an easier one – like everyone’s had time to breathe out as the details start to trickle in. “Anyway, yes – by strategic hires, I meant both appointments and recruitments. I figured we should play to our strengths and concentrate on editorial and leave the events management to experts.”

 _Experts, eh._ Alex writes that down out of habit.

“We want someone who’s experienced but familiar—and someone who wouldn’t charge _a fortune_ for it --and parameters, considered, we had one _very good_ option.”

The way Bill builds to it – it’s almost like Alex sees through the effort, heart now in throat. She tries to focus on Ingrid, who seems just as interested and clueless. A pit forms in Alex’s stomach. _Oh God._

“I hope you still remember my daughter Piper.”

_Oh God._

Alex feels her heart plummet, scorching a bitter path down her throat. She wants to look away as Piper emerges from a backroom door, all smiles and _sun,_ yet she can’t. Instead, her gaze shifts quickly between Ingrid and Piper, who are now shaking hands. Alex finds herself swallowing thickly as Ingrid plants a kiss on Piper’s cheek. _All smiles and pleasantries,_ Alex thinks. _Breathe, Alex._

Beside her, Nicky just whispers: “Holy shit.” And then, “Good thing there’s no Bang Off this year, no?”

Alex clears her throat, but the sound she lets out is still hoarse. “ _Jesus,_ Nicky,” she ends up saying.

“Too soon?”

Alex stares at Piper—she does not even meet her gaze, nor has she even attempted to scan the room, fixing her eyes instead on her father and Ingrid, and confining her interactions with the first row journos.

“Too soon,” she just says, nodding. 


	2. to lives old and new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper calls Polly upon touchdown.

Piper calls Polly upon touchdown. Her father and Cal had each offered to pick her up from the airport, but at the risk of favoring one and disappointing the other, Piper settled for flying in quietly and telling neither.

So now, she’s calling Polly at the arrivals section, baggage in hand. “Hey, Pols,” she greets, as Polly picks up with wordless shrieking and laughter. _Ah,_ Piper just thinks. _Good to be home._

*

Polly drives straight for Piper’s apartment – the one she got after her Paris assignment, and one she never really lived in for too long. “How long are you staying for this time around?” she asks, helping Piper with her luggage. “A couple of days? A couple of weeks?”

Piper sighs. “My dad’s offer had a sort of… _indefinite_ time frame,” she says. “I’m not even sure if I should take it.”

“You _know_ you want to take it,” says Polly. “Is Alex still there?”

Piper makes a face. It’s too early to talk about Alex. “I’m _starving,_ ” she says instead, diverting. “Where are you taking me for lunch?”

“ _Fine,_ ” Polly says. “I haven’t planned that far, but did you want a heavy sort of lunch? There’s this Serbian joint—”

“No more Serbian joints.”

Polly rolls her eyes. “I was _kidding._ ”

*

As expected, Polly does not drop the subject of Alex, at least not too easily. She brings her up every so often in between bites – halfway through their salad; while reaching for Piper’s mashed potatoes; while she distracts Piper with a glass of wine. “So. Are you ready to see her again?”

Piper takes a sip from her glass before speaking. She understands Polly’s worry, of course; after all, she was the sole witness to that brief post-Paris meltdown that Piper prefers to never revisit. “It’s been a while, Polly,” she says. “I’m sure we can be two grown people about it.”

“Ah,” Polly just says, but the way she clips it feels like she’s truncating the significant portion of her statement.

Piper waits. “Ah— _what_?” she asks eventually, growing impatient.

Polly hesitates. And then: “Ah _nothing_ ,” she says instead, shaking her head.

Of course, Piper does not believe her. “Polly.”

“ _What?_ ” Polly looks at her with widened eyes that warn Piper that she may or may not be ready for what comes next. “It’s not like I work there.”

“Okay.”

‘But we do work in the same city,” Polly begins. “Sometimes I see her with someone.”

Piper tries not to flinch. She’s right – she’s not ready to hear all of this just yet. It’s been a while, true – but still, it _stings_ in a way Piper does not really expect. She hates it. “Well, we’re not together, so she can see who she wants to see,” says Piper, throat tight. “Alex can have a life.”

 _A life without me,_ she almost adds, but she quickly bites down on her tongue.

Polly refills their wine glasses quietly before raising hers in a toast. “To new lives,” she says.

“To lives old and new,” Piper just replies.

*

It could be said that Piper has lived many lives in the years between; that she shed one life after another as she moved from job to job, city to city. Her father has always said he could take her places: From a writing job in Brussels, to a marketing job in Oslo, to an events job in Amsterdam – none of them lasting for too long, of course. Piper has not been one to stay put, and her engagements ended as regularly as project lifespans expired.

When her father called after her last assignment in Copenhagen, she fantasized about what was coming: _Maybe an extension? Maybe a vacation? Maybe another assignment in the area?_

She had hoped for Reykjavik but got home instead.

“You want me to come home? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine, darling,” her father said, pausing before adding: “I want you to head this year’s anniversary event.”

“ _Dad._ ”

“I wouldn’t ask you to come home if I had any other options.”

“You _always_ have options,” says Piper.

“None as good as you.”

Her father, ever the charmer. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she tells him. Laughter rings on the other end of the phone, and Piper realizes that she _does_ miss that sound.

“We miss you around here, Piper,” he says, sighing. He tries another laugh, but Piper notes something melancholy about it. Sure, she could fly in and stay for a weekend – have drinks with Polly Friday night; dinner with her parents on Saturday; breakfast with them too before flying out Sunday noon – but something semi-permanent? Piper isn’t quite sure she is ready for that yet.

“And I miss you too, but—”

“But you’re not ready to give up your Europe tour just yet?”

“It’s not that—”

“I’m giving you the task of organizing the main event of the company’s 40th anniversary, Piper. I have nothing but your career advancement in my mind.”

Piper knows exactly where this conversation is headed. _Why am I even putting up a fight?_ “And it is a great opportunity, one I am not sure I could take on—”

“Piper. You have been all over _doing this exact same thing_ for other companies. What are you even talking about?”

“ _Dad._ ”

“ _Please,_ Piper, honey,” her dad pleads. _Damn. If there’s the one thing that’s hard to resist._ “Do it for the team.” And then, “I promise you won’t have to stay for more than half a year.”

Piper sighs. She knows the nature of her father’s promises. He’s not a bad man; just that a lot of things are beyond his control. So she thinks about it, before replying carefully: “Six months tops?”

“If these are your terms, then I accept.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” To Piper’s mind, six months is actually doable: Not too quick for proper adjustment, yet not too long for potential attachment. Six months is actually perfect, yet she thinks it’s _impossible_ that this would take only six months.

A pause on the other end. “So. Is that a yes?”

Piper may have been many things in the years between, but deep down, she’s always been her daddy’s girl. “Yes,” she says, breathing out. “When should I fly in?”

“No pressure just yet,” says Bill. “Though there’s a multiplatform meeting on Monday – first for this year.”

“Hitting the ground running, aren’t we.”

“You don’t have to be there yet if you can’t make it.”

Piper looks at her calendar – if she can fly out Friday morning, she’ll have time to do lunch with Polly _and_ settle in over the weekend before hitting the meeting at full speed.

“I’ll let you know soon about my plans,” Piper says. “Bye dad. Love you.”

*

She tries not to think about Alex on the flight home – she’d been doing so _well_ at this point that she had even managed to date a couple of times, but then there’s _this._ Just like that, she’s back to square one. Just like that, it’s Paris again and Piper’s walking away from a hotel room.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it was that led to the fall out. Polly’s theory was that Alex got bored. “It’s what happens when you’re too busy to pay attention,” was what she told Piper. And since it was the only theory on the matter, it was the only thing Piper had to “accept”.

The truth is, Piper knows it’s more complicated than that.

Paris was crazy – work-wise, _Alex-_ wise. The first few days after seeing her again at the conference was a dream—this _unbelievable_ in-between that, to this day, Piper finds incredulous. Alex was only supposed to be in town for a week, but she ended up renting the room across Piper’s for three months, and on some nights, Piper came home to flowers hung on her door knob. Who knew Alex had that sort of romantic streak? Piper supposed the city brought it out of people.

Nights she spent at Alex’s were nights spent like a tourist. Piper had been beyond caring for a time – until, of course, the work started pouring. That’s when she started spending nights in _her_ room – and that’s when, if Polly’s theory holds, trouble began.

As the project neared its end, it became clearer to Piper that this was going to be more difficult than initially imagined: Piper wanted to move, while Alex wanted to stay.

 “We could live here, you know,” Alex said. “I could get a job—”

“ _Leave_ the paper?” Piper asked, incredulous. “If my father ever found out—”

“Oh come on, you’re old enough to be _gay,_ Pipes.”

“That’s not it—if my father ever found out _I’m_ why you’re leaving the paper--”

“Haha, very funny, Piper.”

“Come on, be serious.” A pause. “I’m taking another assignment. Maybe in Brussels.”

“What? You mean _immediately?_ ”

“Project’s ending a couple of weeks from now—”

“And when were you planning to tell me?”

That took Piper aback. It seemed so out of character, that Alex would demand anything this way. _Who are you?_ she wondered. _What had I done with the old you?_ Piper blinked.  “We don’t exactly like talking about _plans_ ,” she just said quietly. “I don’t even know what’s going on here.”

Alex looked at her wounded – it’s a face that would haunt Piper for many nights to come. “And apparently, I don’t either,” Alex replied.

The air hung heavy around them; it hurt to look at Alex. Piper had no more words, so she left the room. It was the last time that things were right.

*

Alex left before Piper’s Paris assignment ended, in an abrupt affair that devastated her anyhow. _What did I expect?_ She asked herself, staring at Alex’s door. _Maybe I should have asked her to come with me to Brussels._

Yet Piper knew -- Alex was putting her life on hold for her, waiting for something Piper couldn’t quite figure out. Alex’s presence felt like a low ceiling, and in the end, Piper thought, it wasn’t doing either of them any good.

The last time she heard from Alex, it was in a curt email, immediately after Paris. Its subject said: _Home._ Inside, there was only one line: _Have a nice life._

She’d signed off as _av –_ so formal that it hurt. Piper gave herself a few days to reply. _Maybe it’s just a mood,_ she told herself. Maybe Alex was just settling in and trying to crawl her way out of her backlog.

She finished her reply days before she had to leave Paris. Piper doesn’t even remember what she’d written – she’d foolishly erased it from her Sent folder upon realizing that Alex was probably not going to read it anyway.

After that—well. Piper will never be proud of what happened between Paris and Brussels – that was when she got the apartment. Polly called it _a temporary out-of-body experience,_ dropping by every morning with donuts and coffee and a reminder that Brussels was just around the corner.

Piper almost _bungled_ Brussels even, in that way that heartbroken people were often myopic. She chalked it up to an _inexplicable exhaustion._ “Maybe Europe isn’t for me,” was what she told Polly once.

Polly just looked at her sternly before kicking at her shin. Off Piper’s angry yelp, Polly just said: “Get it fucking together, Chapman.”

*

Now it’s five years later, though it certainly feels much longer. Polly sits across her and drinks her coffee quietly, like she’s waiting for the proper time to interrupt. Piper senses this immediately.

“Polly?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me,” says Piper, laughing lightly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” says Polly, putting down her mug. Catch-up has been mostly pleasant – an update of sorts, though nothing too serious. Polly likes making a mess of herself when Piper’s not around, it seems: An ill-advised date or two, the occasional married man.

“I may not have the best set of morals,” Piper says, swatting Polly’s arm. “But I _do_ draw the line at married persons.”

Polly sighs, exaggeratedly. “I _know_ ,” she says, palm against her forehead. “It’s just – I’m not myself, sometimes.”

Piper pauses at that. If there’s anyone who understands that sentiment well – _I know exactly what you mean,_ she just thinks. “Just—you’re old enough to know better, okay?”

Smiling, Polly exhales, reaching for Piper’s hand on the table. “Yeah,” she says. “I missed you, Pipe.”

“You too,” Piper just says.

*

Later that night, Piper finds herself alone in her apartment, finally. She sits amidst her luggage in the living room, wine glass in hand, unsure of what to do. _I should probably unpack,_ she thinks, staring at her open suitcase right in the middle of the room.

However, a nagging voice in her head is holding her back. _What if I don’t like it?_ She asks herself. After all, her father can’t push her into a job she doesn’t like, can he?

Piper fiddles with the zipper of her suitcase, thinking about Monday.

 _What if Alex is there?_ She asks herself, letting out a shaky breath.

_What if it’s all too much?_

*

The first time Piper sees Alex again, it’s in one of the hallways. The meeting has already started and Alex is running late, so she doesn’t see Piper standing at the end of the corridor, frozen in her spot.

 _Thank God,_ Piper thinks, exhaling as Alex disappears into the door. She knows it’s only a matter of time, and that it’s entirely unavoidable, but _still_. Piper takes a moment to breathe in and compose herself, pacing around the holding room with a bottle of water in hand.

“Is there anything else you need, Ms Chapman?”

The sound of another person’s voice startles her slightly; Piper is too distracted to even remember the girl’s name. She thought she was alone. _Interns,_ Piper just thinks, remembering a long ago time. Piper just smiles at her as the girl waits for her response by the door.

“Sorry,” Piper says, fiddling with her water bottle. “I forgot about you. I’m fine.”

“Not a worry ma’am,” she replies cheerfully. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Piper just nods.“Right. Thank you—is it Naomi?”

The girl smiles at her, confused. “It’s Jillian,” she corrects, closing the door.

Piper waits a few moments before laughing out loud. _Jesus,_ she thinks, catching her breath. _Talk about missing it by a mile._ After all this time, Piper realizes how horrible she still is at names.

*

When her cue comes, despite the fact that Piper does not really have to prepare _anything,_ she still feels somewhat thrown.

“When you’re ready,” says Jillian, and Piper abandons her still-full water bottle on the side table before heading for the door.

It opens right into the main platform, and Piper is stunned to be greeted by applause. _This is surreal,_ she thinks, squinting against the light. She sees her dad and hugs him out of instinct, before remembering where she is. _Right. Of course._ With his hand on the small of her back, Bill leads Piper toward Ingrid, famed Travel editor. Piper feels a knot in her stomach – she’s half-starstruck, half- _jealous._

“Hello, Piper,” Ingrid says warmly, coming closer to give her the customary peck on the cheek; she smells like lavender and a hint of smoke, and Piper thinks, _So here we are._

_So this is you._

“Hey,” she mumbles back. _How amateur,_ she thinks afterward, mentally kicking herself. Of all the things she should have prepared for, it should have been what to say first thing to Ingrid.

Bill leans in to whisper in her ear, enumerating the names of the people sitting on the first two rows – journalists and developers, marketing executives, web and social specialists. _He should have warned me this was a command conference,_ Piper thinks, keeping her smile on as she shakes people’s hands.

“Welcome back Piper!” a familiar voice greets. Piper whips her head around, stomach plummeting a little. Boo comes closer with an extended hand and a mischievous smile. “We sure missed you around here.”

In the split-second that she meets her eye, she already understands _exactly_ what Boo means. “Well,” she just says, trying to focus on Boo. _Do not look around,_ she tells herself, but in the corner of her eye, she could see the unmistakable figure of Alex and Nicky huddled together in a row farther back. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“We should have drinks,” says Boo.

Piper feels her eyes widen, panicking at the invite. _Is she serious?_ She wonders briefly: What did Alex tell them about Paris?

But before she can say anything, her father interrupts: “Piper just got here,” he tells Boo. “Surely, we are _not_ getting her drunk immediately?”

Boo laughs, stepping back. “Not what I meant, boss,” she tells him, putting her hands up. “Just asking Piper to put us in her schedule.” She gives Piper a small salute before turning around and walking away.

“Some things never change, eh?” her father tells her.

Piper just shrugs, eyeing the room just as people start dispersing. _Come on, Piper._ She turns her eye slowly toward the back row – just in time to watch Alex open the door and exit the room herself. Piper exhales slowly, like a balloon deflating.

“You all right?”

Piper blinks. “Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat. When she looks at her dad, she is surprised to see Ingrid still standing there, fiddling with her phone. “So. Am I hitting the ground running or what?”

Ingrid laughs lightly, though she does not look up from her mobile. “She really is your daughter, no?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Bill just says, laughing himself.

*

Ingrid joins them for lunch, and Piper thinks it’s a strange feeling, just sitting there and not fussing about _cutlery._ Piper still remembers the last few meetings she’d organized right here. _Had they relocated the dishes?_ she wonders idly, eyeing the closed cabinets that lined the ante-room of the office, just beyond her father’s desk.

Today, another girl is arranging the plates for them, and Piper has to resist offering a hand. Beside Piper, Ingrid and Bill are having a quiet conversation over glasses of water. Piper overhears only snippets of it – they’re talking _venues_ and _hotels_ and Piper knows now is probably a good time to get herself in the loop, but instead she holds her tongue and reaches for the salad first.

“Hungry, Piper?” asks Bill.

Piper smiles. “Famished,” she just says.

Throughout their meal, Piper sits back and quietly lets the conversation wash over her. Up close like this, Ingrid’s quiet, steady tone puts little tremors in her chest. _So this is how it is with you._ She tries not to stare too obviously, but right here, she could see how someone like Alex would have been attracted. _Alex._ The tremors in her chest accelerate slightly, and Piper breathes in deep.

“You all right, honey?”

Piper has to fake a cough, blinking at Ingrid’s endearment. “Yes ma’am,” comes the automatic reply, as Piper reaches for her glass of water. Ingrid offers her handkerchief, which Piper declines.

“Too much to take in?” asks Bill. “You could take the rest of the day off – the next meeting’s not until tomorrow lunch time. Editorial conference. You’d probably be interested.”

 _Alex._ “Actually, I don’t think—”

“Please,” says Ingrid. The way she says it—coupled with the way she reaches over and touches Piper’s hand on the table so casually, like an old friend—pushes Piper to reconsider. “I’m sure the guys would want to know what you think.”

“She was part of the last big event’s team,” Bill offers.

Ingrid nods. “I remember. Didn’t you intern at editorial – with Alex in Entrep, I think?”

 _Here we go._ “I did,” Piper manages, looking away. “Though the experience I have built between that internship period and today has a corporate and events bent, and not—”

“Perfect,” says Ingrid. “Perhaps just the balance we need. We’re glad you’re back on the team.”

Ingrid still has her hand on Piper’s. Under her touch, Piper starts feeling warm. She smiles as she looks back at Ingrid, who’s smiling back at her in kind, her eyes now a startling shade.

 _Great,_ Piper tells herself. _Not another one._

“Yeah,” Piper replies, finding her voice finally. “I’m happy to be back.”

 _I_ _guess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who greeted this sequel with the enthusiasm you'd all shown Portions. You guys are unbelievable and overwhelming. Thank you. :)


	3. written in reverse

“You all right?”

Alex blinks. “What?” Right after the meeting, she’d tried to make a quick exit, but Nicky catches up to her anyhow, cornering her in her cubicle.

“You look pale, Vause. Water?” Nicky’s grinning right at her, but Alex understands it’s the only way that Nicky can actually show her concern.

Alex forces a smile. “Get out of my face, Nichols,” she tells her, though not unkindly. “I have deadlines to meet.”

“As far as I’m concerned, deadlines aren’t the only things you’re meeting today.”

“Shut up,” Alex counters.

“ _Alex._ ” Nicky hangs around a bit longer, arms crossed. “Talk to me.”

“Tell you what,” Alex begins. She _knows_ what Nicky is getting at, and she’s nowhere near ready to have _that_ conversation. “Here’s what’s on my head: FIVE. BIG. EVENTS. Kind of a lot to think about, eh? Still wrapping my head around all of that – five huge supplements and a _shit_ ton of writing.”

“Under Ingrid,” Nicky adds, like she’s actually trying to be _helpful._ Nicky has always had this dubious notion of helpfulness, as expected.

“Yes, and speaking of—” Alex looks pointedly at her watch before looking back at Nicky. “Don’t _you_ have places to be? Interviews to transcribe?”

Nicky sighs, leaning against the entrance to Alex’s cubicle. “I know what you’re doing, Alex. I worry about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Then come drink with us tonight,” says Nicky. “You, me, Boo. Let’s talk about the weather. Or the interns. Something normal.”

 _Normal._ That earns a laugh from Alex. Thank God for the comfort of familiar, unchanging things. She lets herself consider it briefly before shaking her head. “Not tonight,” she says, looking at Nicky like she’s pleading for something. _Let this go, please._ “Resched?”

Nicky rolls her eyes at that; it’s Alex’s signal that she’s forgiven – for the meantime. “Well. If you change your mind about tonight, you know where we’ll be.”

Alex smiles. “Thanks Nicky. I think I can handle myself tonight.”

“Whatever you say,” says Nicky before pushing herself off Alex’s cubicle entrance and walking away.

Alex exhales slowly, eyeing the empty space Nicky has just left.

Alone again, naturally.

*

Later that night, Alex finds herself in her apartment, staring out of her window, nursing a glass of wine. She shifts her eyes toward her phone on the table – she’s been thinking about calling Ingrid, but Alex knows Ingrid would be busy closing Travel section pages until well past midnight.

Besides, what would she say, with her head already half-full with wine?

_You should have told me Bill was planning this. You should have at least given me a heads up. Isn’t that what people who occasionally bang do?_

Alex sighs, draining her glass and setting it upon the table. Of course, Alex knows it’s childish of her to feel this way – the paper has its secrets, and Alex used to not mind not being let in on them. Then again, she’d been younger then. As one of the senior editors, Alex now expects to be told of some things.

_Things like this._

Alex is in the kitchen retrieving the bottle of wine when her phone rings. _Ingrid._ “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ingrid greets, voice hoarse. Alex knows this is how she sounds when she’s exceptionally exhausted. _And this is why I’m getting this call._ “You’re still awake.”

“Kind of have a lot on my head,” Alex admits, pouring herself some wine. “I mean, don’t you?”

Ingrid laughs, tiredly. “Tell me about it.”

 _There’s your opening,_ Alex thinks. “I wish you did, actually.”

“Did what?”

“Tell me about it.”

There’s a long pause on the other end as Ingrid processes what Alex just said. Alex bites down on her tongue to keep other sounds from getting out. The next sound Ingrid makes is a long sigh. “ _Alex._ ”

 _No turning back now._ “You could have _at least_ hinted about the caravan.”

“Nothing was final,” says Ingrid. “I did not want you to worry about something that wasn’t final.”

“I could have at least paced myself,” says Alex. “Worry-wise. Now I have to worry about _all five_ of them dumped on my lap.”

“We _all_ have five of them dumped on our laps, in case you missed the memo.” Alex notes that slight hitch in Ingrid’s tone. This day has everyone strung out, it seems. “Regardless of what we knew about it before this morning’s meeting—we’re all similarly thrown.”

Alex takes a moment to take a sip from her wine. It did seem that Ingrid was just as thrown as all of them at Bill’s announcement. “Jesus this is going to be hell,” Alex just says.

“Because of the caravan, or because of Bill’s kid who’s sitting as overall?”

 _Both,_ Alex thinks automatically. And then, realizing what Ingrid had just asked: “What?”

“Oh come on, Alex,” says Ingrid. “I’m old but I’m not _blind_.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Ingrid sighs. A pit forms at the bottom of Alex’s stomach at the sound. “It’s late,” she says, and Alex feels her stomach curl up in knots. “And I’m tired. I was hoping calling you would be a good idea.”

“Ingrid,” Alex says, tone softening. The day has hung heavily enough – no use adding to the things that are weighing it down. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you called – I was thinking of you all night.” A younger Alex would have prolonged the argument; would have been more eager to win.

But tonight, Ingrid is right – it is late and they are both tired. And, as has always been the case with Ingrid, Alex is first to put her weapons down in surrender.  

“You were?” Ingrid asks back. Alex chooses to ignore the hint of disbelief in her tone.

“I was,” Alex says. “Are you home?”

“Not yet,” Ingrid says. “You are, though.”

Just like that, the tide has shifted, and Alex finds herself smiling wearily. “What gave it away?”

“The quiet,” Ingrid says.

Alex closes her eyes, trying to remember the handful of times Ingrid was here; they are few and far between. Their relationship had mostly played out in Ingrid’s turf, and Alex had little desire to insist for Ingrid to come over. Besides, Ingrid’s flat is more spacious; the view at midnight, much better. All considered, Alex had been comfortable just having her space to herself.

 _To herself._ Alex notes the bitter laugh that catches somewhere in her throat. Truth is, she hasn’t had this place to herself for a long time – Alex knows she’s been sharing it with Piper’s ghosts.

Piper is everywhere and _nowhere,_ and it’s a truth that’s been gnawing at Alex all these years.

“Can I come over?” Ingrid asks softly, breaking into Alex’s thoughts. “I know you have no-sleepover rules or whatever; truth be told they’re as shitty as my dating rules.”

 _Well, there’s an appropriate comparison._ Alex finds herself laughing softly. “They are,” she agrees. “I guess we’re just two shitty people eh.”

“We should just stick together so as not to inconvenience other people,” Ingrid says. And then, after a pause: “Well?”

Alex looks at the bottle on the kitchen counter – still a quarter of the way full. “I still have wine,” Alex just says.

*

Ingrid swings by with coffee. Alex opens the door with the wine bottle in one hand, and there Ingrid is, both hands full.

“You do know I have coffee in my kitchen,” Alex says, smiling as she takes one of the cups from Ingrid’s hand. Ingrid shrugs as she follows Alex into the living room, slipping her heels off near the door and padding after Alex in her stockings.

“I did not know what else to get,” she says, laughing lightly. “I suppose I could never go wrong with coffee.”

Alex pulls a chair out for Ingrid in the kitchen, before turning and opening one of the cupboards, looking for a clean wine glass. Coffee, wine and Ingrid – they make such a strange sight, sitting side by side on her dining room table. Not that Alex is complaining.

“How was your drive?” Alex asks, pouring wine for Ingrid.

“Uneventful,” says Ingrid. “How’s your night?”

Alex smiles as she sits across her. “Same.” She takes a quiet moment to stare at Ingrid, her glass untouched. “So.”

“ _So,”_ Ingrid repeats, reaching for her wine finally to take a sip. Alex feels herself exhaling. There’s a strange energy to the room, now that Ingrid’s here, and Alex absently tugs at the collar of her shirt.

While Alex can listen to Ingrid talk all day, she’s not exactly averse to Ingrid’s silence either; Alex understands how there are nights when all Ingrid wants to do is be _around_ her. That night, staring at Ingrid as she quietly drinks, Alex thinks about how this could be a night like that.

“So what do you want to do tonight?” Alex asks, after a while.

Ingrid starts laughing softly. “Straight to the point, aren’t we?” she says, smiling as she drains her wine. “But if I told you I just wanted to be around you tonight—”

 _See?_ Alex reaches over to refill Ingrid’s glass. “Nothing wrong with being _around_ me,” she says. “I’m actually pretty great to be _around._ ”

“ _Alex_.”

“It was an exhausting day, Ing,” says Alex, pouring the rest of the bottle’s contents for herself. “I’m glad you’re here to be _around_.”

“If I hear the word _around_ one more time—”

“Around.” Alex ducks as Ingrid tosses a crumpled piece of tissue her way in protest. And then, adopting a more serious tone: “I mean it, Ingrid. I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

Ingrid takes a moment to exhale, eyes finally betraying her exhaustion. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Thanks for the coffee,” Alex says.

“Thanks for the wine.”

Alex laughs. “Why are you even thanking me? Are you leaving?”

“Depends.”

“Depends?”

“On how long you’re letting me stay.”

Alex bites down on her lip, staring at Ingrid’s now-empty glass. Had this question been thrown the other day, it would have been a no-brainer.

Now though – Piper’s _back_ , and Alex just can’t seem to get it out of her head. Not even with Ingrid looking back at her with that glint of hope in her eye.

Alex watches as the epiphany washes over Ingrid’s face. “It’s all right,” says Ingrid finally, pushing herself off Alex’s table and getting to her feet, rubbing her palms against her dress. “I should probably let you rest.”

 _Shit._ Alex blinks, standing to catch up with her, now on her way to the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“It’s _late._ ”

Ingrid laughs – the sound comes out bitter; Alex can almost taste the air around it. “Can you make up your fucking mind, Vause?” she asks, tone hitching a little. “One moment I have you with me; the next, you’re in a totally _different_ space. Do you want me around, or—”

“Jesus Christ, Ing,” Alex interrupts, pulling her closer until she’s pressed up against her; close enough that Alex could feel how _warm_ she is under her clothes. “What part of ‘I just want to be around you’ did you not get the first time around?”

Ingrid inhales sharply, eyes darting between Alex’s eyes and lips. _Almost there,_ Alex thinks, tightening her grip on Ingrid’s arm. _Just a bit more._

“I’m sorry,” Ingrid whispers finally, licking at her lower lip. “I’m just—this day has been so fucking exhausting.”

 _There you are._ Alex slides her hands downwards, tracing a wide path down Ingrid’s dress, the fabric rippling as a tell-tale shiver courses through her.  

“Show me,” Alex says, coming closer but not close _enough. If she wants it,_ she thinks, _she could come get it herself._

Ingrid takes a moment before closing the gap, a small whimper escaping her lips. _Finally,_ Alex just thinks, closing her eyes and letting herself get lost. 

*

In bed, much later, Alex cannot sleep, not even with Ingrid cuddled up against her. Outside, morning breaks slowly. _A Tuesday,_ Alex reminds herself. _This is why I don’t do sleepovers on weekdays._

As if reading her mind, Ingrid shifts from inside her arms to face her, skin all warm from sleep. Alex takes a moment to run a hand lightly down Ingrid’s bare side. Naked under the sheets, this is Ingrid at her most vulnerable; something Alex rarely sees.

 _Is it the caravan or Bill’s kid?_ Ingrid’s question hung over Alex’s head all night, as she wondered what exactly Ingrid meant by that. _Does she know?_ Despite Nicky and Boo’s loud mouths and scandalous ways, Alex likes to think they’d managed to keep the whole thing with Piper under wraps, for the most part, considering that Piper’s internship was brief.

Besides. _Nobody_ even knew about Paris.

 _Paris._ Alex notes the twitch in her chest at the memory. Officially, she was gone for a handful of months on an extended leave – nothing out of the ordinary for Alex, who liked to occasionally stay longer on location, especially if it’s a rare trip to Europe. On the day she saw Piper, she _knew_ exactly what she had to do -- she fished her phone out of her pocket and shot an email to Bill, asking for an extension, to which Bill had readily agreed. It was a slow month anyhow, and Alex still had a few supplement issues she had put to bed in advance.

These days, she liked to keep Paris furthest from her mind; on nights like this though, when memories come unexpected, Alex likes to dismiss that point in her life as a brief moment of temporary insanity. _Yes,_ she tells herself, thinking back to the months she lived across the hall from Piper. _That’s exactly what it was._

Which is not to say it wasn’t beautiful – it may have been madness, but it was beautiful while it lasted. The city was not what Alex expected at all, yet it held a charm that ultimately disarmed her.

Piper worked in one of the small publications, organizing conferences and conventions for their main clients, mostly health-related. The one that brought Alex here was a diabetes junket, and to celebrate their “reunion”, she left a cake at Piper’s doorstep, with a note that said, _See you around, neighbor._

It seemed normal, for a while. Alex wrote and edited stories via email, and in between, she spent her mornings and afternoons weaving in and out of small alleys, looking for flowers to hang on Piper’s door. Alex didn’t feel like herself – it’s like the city sucked her old self out of her, and for a while she did not mind – she somewhat _liked_ this Alex: Kind of romantic, kind of love-struck.

Kind of _in love_. It had been a really long while, and well – it’s Piper. Who else to better hang around Paris with?

 _Hang around._ Probably not the best term to use for it, seeing that Piper wasn’t the tourist that Alex was. She supposed, in the end, this was the problem all along; until today, it’s at the core of Alex’s reluctance to say anything about that time.

The beginning had been easy enough – they hung around in Alex’s room, watching foreign-language soaps in mute on cable while eating leftover pizza. Many times, Piper stayed over, a welcome warm presence in Alex’s bed, especially during cold Paris nights. They took every day as it was – in its singular glory, disconnected from yesterday and tomorrow.

To Alex, it felt like starting with a clean slate, and for some time, Alex thought it was working.

It worked until it didn’t – not that Alex didn’t see it coming from afar. When the work started pouring, Piper had fewer and fewer time to spare. Paris got colder, and in the end, it dawned on Alex, how strange all of it was, seeing Piper as a person who held herself – a person who didn’t _need_ her. And while there was a sort of comfort in solitary activities, Paris in this weather was perhaps not the best place to be alone. There were days when the mere thought of Piper being somewhere in the same city chafed at Alex’s skin. _This is not me,_ she began thinking. _Is this who I am now?_  

The thought gnawed at her; she did not want to be somebody who needed somebody, but here Piper was, destroying everything Alex once knew about herself.

So she left. Alex does not remember the argument that led to it – was it Brussels? Very likely, but things had already been building for quite a while that it was already difficult to pinpoint just one specific thing. _A confluence,_ Alex thought, packing her bags.

There was no overwrought goodbye; Alex thought they’d had enough of those. She left quietly, without telling Piper even. Sitting there in her plane seat, Alex convinced herself that it was for the best.

 _Have a nice life,_ was how she began her email, wondering what else to say.

*

“You’re awake,” Ingrid murmurs sleepily, stretching and sighing from within Alex’s embrace. Sunlight filters through the curtains, warming up Alex’s room slowly.

“Woke up from a dream,” Alex says. She’s not entirely sure if she’s lying, considering how long she’d spent thinking about Paris. “Couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“Poor baby,” Ingrid says, touching Alex’s temple. “Was it any _good_?”

 _Already cheeky at this hour?_ Alex smiles, letting herself enjoy the warmth. _Here now,_ she reminds herself. _How about something that’s here, for a change?_ “This is why I don’t do weeknight sleepovers,” she says. “The probability of me getting out of bed on time always drops to _near nil_ , every time.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Ingrid plants a kiss on Alex’s forehead before pulling away from her grasp and getting out of bed. She slips out gracefully, and Alex watches mesmerized as the sheet falls away from her shoulder and slides down her bare back, her silhouette a stunning sight in the early morning light.

Looking over her shoulder a moment after, Ingrid just says: “You enjoyed that, didn’t you.”

Alex clears her throat and licks her lips, her mouth feeling dry. “Yeah,” she says softly. “This is _definitely_ why I don’t do weeknight sleepovers.”

A shadow of a grin ghosts across Ingrid’s face as she bends over to pick her dress up off the floor. _Christ,_ Alex thinks, pushing herself out of bed and crawling closer to Ingrid’s side.

“Why _don’t_ you do weeknight sleepovers again?” Ingrid asks. Her voice is still morning-hoarse, and _God,_ that just never fails to put a shake to Alex’s knees.

“Because,” Alex says, wrapping her hands around Ingrid’s waist and _pulling_ her back. “I never seem to get out of bed _on time._ ”

“ _Oh,”_ Ingrid just says, falling back into bed so easily. “We’re just full of bad ideas, no?”

Alex grins before kissing her. “Let me tell you about all my bad ideas,” she whispers against her lips. “One. By. One.”

*

“Tell me about your dream?” Ingrid says, after, her head nestled upon Alex’s shoulder. They are staring at the ceiling, now fully illuminated by mid-morning sunlight.

“We’re running late,” Alex evades. “Maybe some other time.”

Ingrid laughs. Alex supposes she just missed all her morning meetings. “We _are_ late, no?”

“Yep.”

“Christ. So _irresponsible_.”

It’s Alex’s turn to laugh. “How many meetings did you already miss?”

“Two?” Ingrid says. “My assistant will _kill_ me.”

“See you in hell, then,” Alex says. Ingrid just keeps laughing.

They shower and dress quickly. Alex lets Ingrid go first – she has to drive home first before heading to the office, after all.

“So,” Ingrid says at the door, turning around to kiss Alex goodbye. “I’ll see you in the office then.”

Alex blinks. The way she’d said it struck her as something so normal. So _couple-y._ “Did you hear yourself just now?” Alex teases her.

Ingrid thinks about it for a moment before realizing what Alex is saying. “Yeah,” she says, swatting Alex’s shoulder lightly. “It could be nice, no?”

“ _Could_ ,” Alex notes. And then, off the look on Ingrid’s face: “Look, I’m just—I was just teasing. Okay? It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Ingrid breathes out. “Okay,” she says. “Listen – let’s talk about this some other time, okay? I _really_ have to go.”

“You _really really_ had to go, like, fifteen minutes ago,” says Alex.

“You’re clearly a bad influence.”

Alex laughs. Ingrid takes that as her signal to open the door and finally step out.

 _Jesus Christ,_ Alex thinks, staring at her closed door. _Whatever should I do with you?_

*

Alex is staring at a hard copy of edits on a handful of her pages when a knock on her cubicle wall jolts her. She spins around in her surprise, nudging a penholder off the table, and sending an assortment of pens and pencils all over the floor.

“ _Shit._ ” Alex says out loud, bending from her seat to retrieve the pens. “Sorry, I—”

“No, it’s – I surprised you. I’m sorry, let me help.”

Something freezes inside Alex’s chest at the voice. _No shit._ She stares at the floor longer than necessary, gripping the pencils in her shaky hand as she keeps her head down.

“Hey, Alex,” Piper tries again, softer this time.

Alex looks up slowly, rising from her wobbly knees. Seeing Piper this close again puts a heavy lump in Alex’s throat. _What is she thinking? What is she even doing here?_

Piper puts the penholder back on the table, now half-full with pens she’d collected off the floor herself. “Sorry about the mess.”

Alex stares at her, trying to figure out what to say. After all this time, Alex is still helpless at the sight of her – there’s a _glow_ about Piper that Alex cannot un-see, and it’s _frustrating,_ that Alex still feels this way, like all her limbs are stunned and disconnected.

“Alex? Say something.”

 _You come in here and demand all sorts of things. Who do you think you are?_ Some form of _anger_ starts simmering dangerously in the pit of Alex’s stomach. She knows it’s mostly defense mechanism, but it’s not like she can help herself at this point; she’s as good as something on auto-pilot.

Piper looks at her, and Alex watches as the look on Piper’s face shifts from hope to disappointment in a matter of seconds.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, shaking her head. “This was a mistake.”

Alex thinks, _Wait._ Alex wants to say, _You don’t understand._ But before any other sound comes out, Piper is already out of her space.

 _Well, shit._ Slowly, Alex drops back down to her seat before cradling her face in her hands. _I'm t_ _he absolute master of handling things wrong,_ she just thinks, gripping the pen in her hand so hard that she breaks it.


	4. grace period for nerves

The editorial conference room is still empty when Piper walks past it for the nth time; she sighs as she walks back into her father’s room, fresh notebook in hand. For someone who did not want to be in this meeting in the first place, Piper is ridiculously early. _Grace period for nerves,_ she tells herself, trying to keep busy by thumbing through old issues of the paper and a handful of magazines scattered all over her dad’s office.

Despite the early hour, Piper feels so _awake –_ it’s probably the jet lag, or the fact that she isn’t used to having so many hours’ sleep anymore. After yesterday’s lunch, she took the rest of the day off as advised, ostensibly to resume unpacking her things. _Ostensibly._ Instead, she found herself sleeping through most of the afternoon and well into the night.

She woke up at 4 in the morning, still in her office clothes. _Well, shit._ Outside, the streets were quiet and when she opened the window, the wind was crisp and cool. Piper figured: _Might as well._

And so Piper began her day by walking with a cup of coffee to warm her hands. Stepping out of her apartment, she found that the sky was already starting to brighten with a muted pink hue that reminded her of old mornings she also spent walking to work, elsewhere. She walked two blocks, following the faint scent of bread and tracing it to a newly opened bakery, where she bought a bag of donuts before heading back.

And now, she is here: Freshly bathed, wide awake, and alone in an office where the hubbub does not start until mid-morning. _Well shit._

She is halfway through last Wednesday’s newspaper when her father arrives. He brightens up instantly as he sees her. “Hey,” he says, greeting Piper with a hug. “You're early.”

Piper cringes. “It’s the jet lag.”

“Ah.” Her father makes a sympathetic sound before lowering his bag and picking up the phone. “Coffee?”

Piper shrugs. “I suppose I can’t have one too many,” she just says. Her father nods and starts speaking into the phone; Piper assumes he’s talking to one of his assistants.

“Ingrid should be here in a few,” he says, looking at his watch as he hangs up. “I wanted to discuss venues and values. I just thought this would be relevant to you.”

“It is,” says Piper, just as her father’s assistant comes in – perhaps one of the interns this season. _Intern._ The word stays in Piper’s head like a heavy brick. “Were you really serious about the five venues?”

“I was originally thinking of _seven_ ,” her father replies. _Seven?!_ Piper almost drops the hot cup of coffee handed to her just now. “But I thought that would be too ambitious.”

“ _Too ambitious,_ ” Piper repeats with a laugh. “Five’s still _five_ , dad.”

“Go big or go home,” he says, laughing along. “Besides – I’m pretty confident we could pull it off. We have a great team this year.”

“Right.” Piper tries to swallow the lump in her throat. She’s seen her dad when he’s this excited and determined; it is equal parts exciting and exhausting. “I guess we’ll see for ourselves soon enough.”

“See what for ourselves?” Piper looks up just as Ingrid pops her head in at the doorway. “Hey Piper,” Ingrid greets with a smile. Then to Bill: “Sorry. Am I late?”

“Piper’s early,” he says. “How are you?”

“Good. I already missed _two_ meetings today – I’m not missing another one.” Ingrid laughs lightly and Piper sees her dad shaking his head. “Let me just swing by my office. Be right back.” She flashes one last smile at Piper before closing the door after her.

“Ingrid likes you,” Bill says out of the blue.

Piper nearly chokes on her coffee. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about Ingrid—but she’s _very picky_ with people,” he says.

 _Well, there’s something she and Alex have in common._ Piper immediately regrets the thought the moment it crosses her mind. “I’m afraid I don’t know Ingrid at all,” she says.

“That’s why she doesn’t take interns,” says Bill. “She’s very careful whom she surrounds herself with – her assistant’s been with her for a decade, I think?”

“Loyalty must be so important to her,” Piper says.

“About the same level as talent,” says Bill. “She took a hard hit this year when a couple of her travel writers resigned.”

“Oh. How come?”

“Greener pastures,” Bill says, sighing. “I think they’re putting up a start-up or something. Kids these days.”

“Ah,” Piper shrugs. That had been the rage in Europe as well – small orgs threatening to overthrow the big, the traditional, the established. _Why do we hate old things so much?_ Piper wanted to ask, but then again they’d know exactly where she was coming from anyway.

“Good thing Alex has been pitching in for Travel here and there. Did you know she was Alex’s mentor for a time?”

Piper drinks up, thinking about how to react to that. She and Alex never spoke about Ingrid at length – and for good reason. At the time, it was better for Ingrid to remain that untouchable thing from Alex’s past; nothing more but a concept.

 _Yet here she is now – real and warm. An actual person._ “No,” Piper says as soon as she finds her voice. “Alex never mentioned it.”

“I suppose you guys were too busy with Entrep to discuss the past,” says Bill. _Yes, we definitely were all sorts of busy,_ Piper thinks, biting down on her tongue. “Speaking of Alex – have you talked with her yet?”

“No,” comes Piper’s automatic response. “Why?” _Did she say something? Did she ask for me? Did she talk about me while I was gone?_ Piper tries her best to keep her face straight even as the questions are running wildly in her head.

“Nothing,” her father says, his nonchalant tone shooting down Piper’s high hopes. “I just thought you’d be happy to catch up. You were so close during your internship.”

 _Were._ Piper clears her throat. “Is she sitting in this meeting?”

“Supposedly.”

 _Shit._ “Would you—would you like me to check if she’s in her cubicle?”

“We could always just give her a call—”

Piper stands. “No, I’d just—” she cuts herself mid-sentence, suddenly aware that she doesn’t quite know how to proceed. _Better to see her ahead,_ she thinks. _Rather than be taken by surprise._

“You’d just…?”

Piper blinks. “I’ll just check for myself,” she completes. “Walk and stretch before Ingrid gets back.”

Her father just gives her a funny, distracted look. “Suit yourself,” he says as Piper heads for the door.

Stepping out into the corridor and closing the door behind her, Piper lets out a long sigh. _Now or never._ She looks around and tries to figure out where she’s headed. _Are they even still where they used to be?_ Suddenly Piper realizes how _foreign_ everything now seems to her. _All of this is five years away._ She turns toward one of the wings, hoping it’s the right one.

It takes her a couple of wrong turns before she finds Alex’s cubicle – it’s at the far end of the same wing. To Piper’s surprise, this space is just as she remembers it. The light is on above her area, so chances are she’s already there, doing God knows what. As Piper walks on shaky knees, she tries to imagine the Alex she remembers: Focused on her screen, typing with an earphone plugged in one ear.

When Piper peers into the cubicle, the first thing she sees is Alex’s figure turned away from the door. Her chest stills at the sight – it seems that Alex is hunched over some papers. _Maybe her pages,_ Piper thinks, touching the edge of the cubicle wall gingerly.

Slowly, she taps against the surface. _Once._ No response. _A bit louder then._ She repeats the move, this time a bit more forceful. The sound of her knock echoes in the quiet – just enough to surprise Alex.

_Shit._

Alex spins around, apparently startled. Her movement pushes a pen holder off the table, and a dozen or so pens and pencils spill all over the floor, much to Piper’s panic.

“ _Shit._ ” Alex says the word in Piper’s head out loud, bending from her seat to retrieve the pens. “Sorry, I—”

Piper’s throat is dry. It’s the first time in so many years that she’s hearing Alex speak again. _That voice,_ Piper thinks. She opens her mouth, waiting for sound to come out.  “No, it’s – I surprised you. I’m sorry, let me help.” Her voice sounds so _alien_ – like it’s not coming _from_ her. Alex keeps her head down; it’s like she does not recognize Piper’s voice either.

 _Or maybe she does. Fuck._ Piper watches as Alex quietly keeps collecting the pencils off the floor. “Hey, Alex,” she tries again, voice small. She imagines the room get bigger around her. _What a heady feeling, this_. 

Alex’s hands stop moving for a moment; and then, slowly, she gets up and lifts her head. When she finally sees Piper, she looks at her with this unnerving, blank stare. _What are you thinking of?_ Piper wants to ask. Instead, Piper breaks eye contact herself, bending over to pick up the pen holder that has fallen a few inches from her foot and pushing some of the pens scattered nearby back inside. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Piper finds herself saying, regretting immediately the layers that statement may have held.

Alex says nothing in response. Alex Vause, whom Piper had always known to have a witty comeback or two up her sleeve – that same Alex is now here standing before her, wordless and quiet.

The pit in Piper’s stomach just grows and grows.

“Alex?” Piper tries again. She tastes the desperation seeping slowly into her words. “Say _something_.”

_Anything._

Alex holds her ground – jaw set and brow arched. In that split-second, Piper realizes one painful thing: She’s no longer welcome here. “I’m sorry,” she ends up saying, shaking her head. “This was a mistake.”

* 

_What the fuck was I thinking?_ Piper pushes the restroom door open and enters an empty stall with still-shaky knees. She pulls the lock in place and leans back against the door, steadying her breath. _Too soon,_ she thinks, feeling for her phone.

 _Maybe I should call Polly._ Piper gets as far as scrolling to her name before deciding against it. _I can do this. We’re all adults here._

 _Adults._ Piper keeps repeating the word in her head. Surely, they could both agree to put the proverbial past behind them? Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, Piper breathes out, long and slow.

_I can do this._

When Piper opens the door, Alex is there waiting for her, and Piper feels all the blood leave her face immediately.

_I take it back. I cannot do this._

“Hey,” Alex offers, clearing her throat. There’s a certain softness to the way she looks at Piper now; it’s so familiar that Piper cannot bear to hold it for too long. “About earlier, I--”

“It’s okay, it was—”

“No, _I’m_ sorry, I should have—I was just surprised,” says Alex, squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine. “That’s all.”

Piper blinks. _That’s all?_ The matter-of-fact way in which Alex says it thrusts a knife into Piper’s chest. That’s all?” she repeats dumbly.

“That’s all.” It is at this point that Alex chooses to smile, stepping closer to extend a hand toward Piper in a gesture of a handshake. _What is this?_ Piper pauses. Off the question on her face, Alex adds: “Come on. Like a do-over.”

“A do-over?”

“Yeah,” says Alex, the smile on her face wavering, flickering. _Fading._ Piper takes the hand quickly, like she’s egging Alex to _keep smiling_. “Like we’re meeting for the first time.”

Piper almost says, _How about no?_ but then she catches herself just as the words are about to get out. The knife wedged in her chest now feels like it’s just been _twisted_ in, hard. “All right,” she finds herself saying instead, voice low. Alex moves her hand in hers in one firm tug.

“So,” Alex says.

“So.”

“So, my name is Alex,” she says, smiling like she’s breathing more freely.

Piper opens her mouth. _Fuck it._ “My name is Piper,” she says, playing along, trying to ignore the bitter taste of pooling tears at the bottom of her throat. “I believe we have a meeting today.”

*

Alex sits beside Ingrid, who greets her curtly but warmly upon her entrance.

“Ms Vause,” Bill greets. “I almost sent someone after Piper. We thought she got lost.”

Alex turns to Piper, smile still on. “Sorry," she says,speaking to Bill, while still looking at Piper. “Just got a bit carried away, catching up and all.”

“Was Alex any good, Piper?” asks Ingrid.

 _What?_ Piper turns her head sharply to find Ingrid still facing her laptop. “Sorry?”

“I mean, did you learn something during your internship? Or did Alex just ask you to transcribe all her interviews?”

Alex laughs. “Because that’s what _you_ did back in the day,” she snaps back at her, though their banter is good-natured. Piper feels a sort of envy that borders on jealousy. _There was something here._

“It’s good training,” Ingrid counters. “Hearing people make conversation. Isn’t that how the best stories are made?”

“By _eavesdropping_?” Alex asks. Piper watches as she and Ingrid exchange conspiratorial glances. Piper glances at her watch. _Goddamn. What exactly have I gotten myself into, and how long is this going to take?_

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” says Ingrid. Alex laughs, voice hoarse, trailing off in a small cough. Piper looks away from the two of them; suddenly it all feels like tiny morsels of glass under her skin.

“So. Piper.”

_Can we just get to the meeting?_

“Was Alex any good?”

 _For fuck’s sake._ Piper chews on her lip, turning slowly to face Ingrid, keeping her face blank. “I learned a lot,” she just says, smiling tightly. When she turns to look at Alex, she’s no longer laughing.

“Alex’s mentorship, however brief, provided valuable input to Piper’s succeeding projects. Right, Piper?” Her father’s comment is the proverbial bucket of ice that brings them back to the present. Piper nods wordlessly, reaching for her notebook and flipping it open to a new page.

Without further word, Ingrid turns the projector on. Piper squints at the screen until it becomes clearer. The first slide is a map.

“If you could look this way please,” Ingrid says.

When Piper glances over at Alex, she sees her staring intently at Ingrid in that unmistakable way that Piper once knew so well.

 _Shit._ Slowly, it dawns on Piper, what _exactly_ she has walked into, this time.

*

Bill adjourns the meeting some forty-five minutes later, and Ingrid packs up her presentation swiftly, tucking her laptop and projector away in one smooth movement. “Sorry to have to run sweeties,” Ingrid says as she picks her bag up. “Budget defense meet – aren’t you on that as well, Bill?”

Bill glances at his watch. “As a matter of fact, I am,” he says. “Though I’m planning on walking in late.”

Ingrid laughs. “ _Please_ do not leave me alone there,” she mock-pleads. “That board room’s going to be full of sharks.”

“If I could skip it I would.”

“ _Bill._ ”

“I was _kidding_ ,” says Bill, laughing along. And then, to Piper: “There’s lunch coming but we can’t wait for it. Can you and Alex just eat for _four_ in the meantime?”

“Dad—”

“Sure—”

When Piper turns to look at Alex, she just looks back at her with similarly surprised eyes. “Sorry,” Alex says, smiling sheepishly. “It’s just—I’m pretty hungry.”

“Yeah, of course, it’s just—yeah.” Piper fumbles with the words. “I’m hungry too. Kind of.”

“Great then,” Bill interjects, picking up his files off his table. “You kids just behave, sit tight and wait to get fed. Okay?” 

“Yes sir,” Alex replies immediately, like she’s saving Piper from having to talk some more. “Good luck on your budget defense.”

Bill nods as he closes the door after him. “Thanks kids.”

Piper flinches as the door shuts, noting how the sound echoes inside the room in that long minute. _Now what?_ Piper stares at her notes until they become nothing but unintelligible scrawls across the page.

“Listen.” Alex’s tone is soft, like an apology. Piper tries her best not to look up; she does not trust herself enough to manage the gesture. “If this makes you uncomfortable, I could leave.”

Piper shakes her head. “Don’t. Don’t leave.” The words tumble out before she can catch herself.“You did not say goodbye in Paris.” _Fuck, what am I even saying?_

Alex sighs and Piper stares harder into her notebook. “Sure you want to do this on an empty stomach?”

“What?” Piper looks up, only to find Alex starting to laugh lightly – a soft, slow, incredulous laugh that seems to ask: _How the fuck did we get here, kid?_

 _Trust Alex to find humor in the strangest places,_ Piper thinks.

“I mean,” Alex continues, shrugging. “We could opt to wait for lunch before getting to it. It’s just a suggestion.”

Despite herself, Piper finds herself laughing. “God, Alex,” she says. “How are we even here right now?”

A knock on the door disrupts their conversation and Alex gets up to get it. “Oh,” she says as she opens the door wider, ushering in one of Bill’s assistants and a delivery guy. “Looks like lunch is served.”

Piper bites down on her lip, watching them set up. When she looks past the delivery guy’s shoulder, she sees Alex looking at her, smiling absently, like she’s remembering something. Piper is hit suddenly by an all too fond, familiar feeling. _Déjà vu, Piper?_ she asks herself, blinking.

Alex sends the assistant off with last-minute instructions before shutting the door softly herself. Piper stares at the food set up, wondering what to do next.

“So,” says Alex walking toward the table and putting her hand on the back of the chair across Piper.

“So,” Piper says, mirroring Alex’s move.

“Let’s eat.”

Piper breathes out. “Well then,” she just says, licking at her lower lip. “Bon appetit.”


	5. touch last to win

 

To get through the first few tense minutes, Alex chews slowly. _It’s just lunch,_ she tells herself. _Nobody’s obliged to talk._

And while Alex, through the years, has mastered the gentle art of just getting through silent business meals, this one unfortunately tugs at some still-tender strings: Truth be told, after all this time, watching Piper eat is still among Alex’s favorite memories.

 _Stop._ Alex puts her fork down to compose herself.

“Something wrong?”

 _Rule breaker,_ Alex wants to say. _We’re not supposed to talk. Or at least, not yet._ “Just something I remembered,” Alex says instead, trying to pass it off as a completely ordinary thing.

“Ah,” says Piper. And then, gesturing at the plate beside Alex’s right hand: “Could you hand that over please?”

Alex stares at Piper’s palm before fully realizing what it was she wanted. “Oh,” Alex says, blinking. “Here.” Alex lifts the tempura plate and carefully passes it over, hand brushing against Piper’s briefly as she moves. If Piper notices, she gives no outward indication; the space on Alex’s hand, meanwhile, tingles and burns.

When Piper finishes her meal, she sets her fork down, quiet for a moment. “Can we start talking now?”

 _Time’s up, Vause._ Alex wipes at her lips carefully with a napkin, stalling. Buying time. “All right, then,” she sighs, caving in. “ _Talk_.”

Piper laughs lightly, shaking her head. “Me? It’s your turn to _talk_ ,” she says. “I already asked you why you didn’t say goodbye in Paris.”

 _Of course, Paris._ “It’s always that _damned_ city,” Alex says.

“ _That_ damned city?” Piper repeats, voice hitching. Alex looks away, trying to keep her temper in check. No use losing it alongside Piper’s, right? “That city was you and me, Alex, that city was—”

“That city was _five years ago_ ,” Alex cuts in, struggling to keep her voice level and calm. “Besides, did it matter? Did _any_ of it matter?”

The look on Piper’s face morphs into one of flabbergasted disbelief; it colors her cheeks a pleasant pink hue. _She’s blushing,_ Alex notes, wondering idly what exactly it is that she remembers. “You’re unbelievable,” Piper just says.

“It shows,” Alex snaps back.

“What do you mean, _did any of it matter?_ Christ, Alex. One night I’m going home to flowers on my door, then the following morning, your room is _empty_?”

“And you say I did not say _goodbye_ ,” says Alex, lining her statement with a bitter laugh. “I left flowers.”

“ _Jesus Christ._ ” Piper grits her teeth. “You’re right; talk is pointless,” she says, pushing herself away from the table and preparing to leave.

 _Oh, fuck._ “Piper,” Alex says in a low voice, standing as well. “You’re missing my point.”

“Your point being?”

Alex tries to hold Piper’s angry glare for as long as she could. The easier way would be to fully meet this anger with her own – to feel as outraged, as entitled to a fury that she once held herself. In the early days, post-Paris, Alex remembers that fury pulsing right under her skin, like heat that couldn’t escape.

But as the days and years passed, Paris blurred, until it was nothing but a faraway _concept –_ a faint imprint of a feeling that she had, once upon a time. Alex thinks about how far she’d actually come and takes a moment to pause.

“ _Alex._ ” Piper repeats. Alex recognizes this impatience all too well that she’s almost fond of it. 

“I meant it wouldn’t have mattered,” she says, sighing. “It wouldn’t have worked anyhow. Best to have just left it where it was.”

Piper’s angry glare softens around the edges. “That your idea of an apology?”

“Maybe,” Alex says.

Piper sits back down, deflated. “Still not the explanation I’m looking for.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry about not hanging around long enough to be the one to watch you go?”

“You know that is _not_ what happened.”

“And what would have? You’ve already left once, Pipes. This place for Paris—”

“You do not get to call me _that_ again—”

“Slip of the _fucking tongue,_ can you cut me some slack here?” Alex holds her breath as Piper flinches ever so slightly. She immediately regrets the words as they come out. _It was leave or be left, Pipes,_ she wants to add. _Nobody wants to be the one who picks up the pieces._

After a tense, silent moment, Piper stands again, face carefully blank. “I think you should go,” she says flatly, avoiding Alex’s eye.

Alex shoves her hands into her pockets, diverting her gaze to the floor. _This is not how this should have gone_. She takes a look at Piper one more time before turning to leave without further word.

*

“A little birdie told me you’d probably be up for drinks tonight,” Nicky says, passing by Alex’s cubicle that night. Alex just smiles without looking up from the page she’s reading. “Come _on_. You can’t give me the brush off _two_ nights in a row.”

“I wasn’t even saying _anything_.”

“Ah, but I _know_ that look.”

“What look?” Alex asks, finally lifting her head.

“ _That,”_ Nicky gestures at her haphazardly, chuckling. “I mean, you look more _fuck the world_ than usual, Vause. What’s up?”

Alex shakes her head. _You’re not trapping me into this conversation, Nichols._ “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re doing that _thing_ again.”

“ _Nicky._ ” Seeing that it is pointless to try to focus with Nicky hanging around, Alex finally puts away her pages, crossing her legs and looking at her, finally. “Fine. You win.”

Nicky smiles wider as she steps into the cubicle, running her hands along the edge of the divider idly. “Queens with Boo then? Drinks probably on her.”

Alex laughs. “I don’t think you should be promising on her behalf.”

“Of course I should be,” Nicky counters. “Our bet was—”

 _Oh Jesus -- not another bet._ Alex groans. “You are _not_ betting over things again—”

“Let me finish, will you?” Nicky says, laughing. “My bet was that I could convince you to go out tonight. Boo thinks otherwise, so: I bring you, she brings booze. Call it our division of labor.”

“You bring _me_? Like wine or cheese at a housewarming party?”

“Kind of,” says Nicky. And then, off the look on Alex’s face: “You still mad?”

Alex thinks about it, scratching her chin lightly. “No – but only because you’re paying,” she says, standing up and putting her jacket back on.

“Of course,” says Nicky, rubbing her palms together. “Shall we?”

Alex takes a look at the ridiculous grin on Nicky’s face before allowing herself to laugh out loud.  “Christ,” she just says, shaking her head as she slings an arm around Nicky’s shoulder. “You guys are incorrigible.”

“Birds that flock together,” Nicky replies, walking out and pulling Alex after her.

*

Boo greets Alex’s arrival with a loud, “Fuck!” before putting her beer down and greeting Alex with a big bear hug, her disbelief be damned. “Jesus, Nichols,” she tells Nicky afterward, shoving at her shoulder. “You _actually_ pulled this one off.”

Nicky just shrugs, a smug look on her face. “When have I ever been unable to deliver?”

“True,” says Boo. “It is always totally unwise to bet against the two of you working in concert.”

“Indeed,” says Alex. “Like I would say no to free drinks.”

Boo shrugs. “I decided to take a chance, granted how often you’ve been saying ‘no’ recently.”

“Shots fired,” Nicky chimes in. Then, to Boo: “Where. Is. My. _Beer_?”

“On it – _Jesus,_ ” says Boo, laughing as she gets up. “You’ve been here for, like, two seconds.”

“Time is gold,” Nicky just says, winking at Alex.

The night is surprisingly light. Against initial expectations, neither Nicky nor Boo quiz Alex about Piper’s appearance during Monday’s meeting, opting instead to focus their chatter on this year’s hapless interns. _Some things never change,_ Alex muses, watching their animated banter.

“I thought you’d be too busy for a Bang Off?” Alex says casually, taking a quick sip from her drink.

Boo nods. “We are,” she says. “But it’s not like we can stop ourselves from looking. Right Nicky?”

Nicky shakes her head, pretending to be disgruntled. “Sometimes, I hate my _eyes_. They are predisposed to beauty--”

“Shut up,” says Alex, laughing out loud with her mouth full. “You two are unbelievable.”

“We are just _looking,_ ” Boo says, holding her palms up. “Look ma, no hands.”

“Seriously?” Alex asks, incredulous. _How are they even going to pull that miracle off?_ “You might as well just have them chopped off or something.”

“You’re a sadist Vause,” Nicky chimes in, throwing a lone fry Alex’s way. “A little _faith_ wouldn’t hurt.”

“A little faith would be _misguided_ ,” says Alex, still laughing as she brushes the fry off her shoulder. “I don’t believe _we’ll_ ever be too busy for bets.” Alex tries not to grin too widely at the utterly priceless, stunned looks on their faces.

“Are you kidding?” Boo deadpans, before turning to Nicky. “The fuck did you do to Vause while on the way over, Nicky? This one’s broken.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Nicky says in all seriousness. “I didn’t – did I, Alex?”

“Fuck you both,” Alex says, laughing out loud. “I’m not yet finished.”

“You totally had us at _bets,_ ” says Boo.

“You had me at _we,_ ” says Nicky.

“Right,” Alex begins. _Now that I have your full attention._ She clasps her hands together and tucks them under her chin before staring at them seriously. Clearing her throat, she says: “Touch _first_ and lose.”

Nicky blinks. “What?” The confusion runs across her face and Alex almost breaks out into a laugh. “That is not—did I understand your bet correctly?”

“That is the _most_ ridiculous bet I have _ever_ heard,” Boo says.

“Well, for people who have made a sport out of sleeping with as many persons as possible, I just thought _maybe_ it’s time for the challenge to be reversed.”

“No,” says Nicky immediately. “Unacceptable.”

“I’m with Nicky here. How is this supposed to continue the spirit of the Bang Off?”

“Only it’s _not_ supposed to be a Bang Off,” Alex says. “You said it yourself -- you’re just _looking_ , aren’t you? _Look Ma – no hands,_ ” she adds, mimicking Boo’s earlier statement. Boo and Nicky exchange unsure looks. “You _can’t_ do it, can you?”

“It’s not that—”

“But there’s this one from the Fashion desk—”

Alex stares at the two of them as they interrupt each other, shaking her head. “All right, let’s rephrase: Touch last to win?”

Boo narrows her eyes at her. “What do you mean, _touch last?_ Like, all I have to do is just wait for you and Nichols over here to give in first?”

“Basically,” Alex says. “Though all I really have to do is wait and see who gives in first between the two of you.”

“You really think you’ve graduated from interns, don’t you Vause?” says Nicky, smirking at her. “What, you and Ingrid are exclusive now? Because, in that case, there is no point making this bet with you--”

Alex rolls her eyes. _This again._ “Ingrid and I are _friends,_ Jesus Christ, won’t you give it a rest.”

“And by that, I think she means they’re in an open relationship,” Boo tells Nicky. “Suppose this makes the bet fair?”

Nicky shakes her head. “You want to know what makes this bet fair? _Piper._ ”

Alex tries not to flinch – she’s braced herself all night for that name, yet when Nicky spits it out finally, it still hits Alex’s chest like a lead weight. “Piper’s not an intern anymore,” Alex says, voice softer. “Technically, she’s even our _boss_.”

“I’m just saying,” says Nicky, backing down. “The two of you have much to tie up, no? Loose ends from the last time.”

“Loose ends from _five_ years ago,” says Alex. “As good as done.”

“I did ask Piper to drink with us one of these days,” Boo says. “So if you ever want to test that theory.”

Alex swallows her beer. _Oh fuck it._ “Sure thing,” she just says, finishing her bottle. “Maybe when she’s a bit more settled. Heard the jet lag’s still killing her.”

“So you’ve talked, eh?” Nicky asks.

 _She’s been waiting for this opening,_ Alex notes. “Sat in the same meeting with her earlier,” she just says, shrugging. “We didn’t even talk. I just looked at her and assumed—”

“You _didn’t_ talk?”

“No, nothing that didn’t involve what Ingrid was presenting—”

“ _Ingrid_ was presenting?” Nicky repeats. “Damn. What I would have given to have been invited to _sit-in_ at that meeting--”

“Careful what you wish for,” Alex just says. “We’ll probably be sitting in similar meetings—”

“Wait, so you didn’t talk about _Europe?_ ” Boo interrupts. “You just—went _straight_ to business?”

Alex blinks. “Why would we talk about Europe?” she asks back.

“Uh, because you were inseparable once? And who doesn’t want to talk about Europe anyway? I’ve always wanted to work for Scandinavian press,” says Boo.

Nicky nods, smiling absently. “Scandinavian girls, though.”

 _Fucking hell._ Despite herself, Alex starts laughing. “No, we didn’t talk about Europe, or Scandinavia, or Scandinavian girls for that matter—”

“We thought, at the very least, you would talk about Paris.”

 _Paris._ Alex feels the air go out of the room at the word. “What about Paris?” she asks carefully.

Nicky gives her a funny look before shrugging. “I don’t know. Weren’t you in Paris for a vacation? Supposed you could discuss the city, or something. It’s _also_ Europe.”

“Yeah,” says Boo. “And didn’t Piper work in Paris for a time, too? Wasn’t that where her assignment was, immediately after this?” Alex looks away, ignoring the question. Boo doesn’t seem to notice and goes on. “Imagine if the two of you bumped into each other in Paris no?”

 _“Drama,_ ” Nicky says in a faux high-pitched voice.

Alex tries to keep breathing steadily. _Not today,_ she tells herself. “You guys are idiots when you’re drunk,” she just says, getting up to order more beer.

*

It is already past midnight when Boo finally decides to call it a night. “Thanks for coming out, Alex,” she tells her with a drunk slur, leaning against a lamppost just outside Queens. She and Nicky are trying to hail a cab separately.

“It’s always hard to admit that I sometimes miss your insane company,” Alex says, one hand shoved in a pocket. For someone who has had more drinks than she’s used to on a week night, Alex feels unusually sober.

“We’ll probably grow sick of each other’s insane company soon enough this year,” says Nicky. “With everything we’re doing and _not_ doing – speaking of which, we never _finalized_ our bet.”

“Touch last to win,” Alex just repeats, smiling. “Game?”

“Mechanics?” asks Boo.

“Interns plus Ingrid and Piper,” Nicky replies immediately. “You all right with that Alex?”

Alex breathes in. _You started this._ “More confident than ever,” she says. “First to give in pays 600, second pays 400. Last one standing gets the thousand – that good?”

“Man, celibacy is _expensive_ ,” Nicky quips.

Boo gives her a long, stern look before nodding. “Fine,” she just says, “Bet goes on for the entire year?”

Alex smirks. “If Nicky’s onboard, then I am—”

“End of the year? Are you kidding?” asks Nicky. “Until after the anniversary. Because Jesus Christ after all that stress, I will _need_ to get laid.”

“Fair enough,” says Boo. “And if we all manage to hold out until the very end, Vause?”

Alex almost says _You wish._ “In that unlikely event,” she says, laughing. “Then maybe I could get you both a discount at one of Ingrid’s friends’ hotels so you could… _celebrate_ properly.”

“Deal,” Nicky says, hand shooting out energetically. “Now _this_ is a bet.”

Alex is still laughing when she shoves both Nicky and Boo into the same cab. She jots down the plate number in her phone and waits for the car to disappear at the curb before turning around to walk home. She’s halfway there when Ingrid’s phone call comes in.

“Home yet?” Ingrid greets, sounding exhausted. 

“Walking,” says Alex. “Drinks with the girls.” And then, off Ingrid’s silent question: “Nicky and Boo, Jesus. Who else?”

“Ah,” says Ingrid. “Sorry. It’s been a tiring day. As you know.”

 _Budget hearing,_ Alex remembers _._ “How was your board meeting?”

“Shark-infested,” she says. “Good thing Bill was there. How was your lunch with Piper?”

 _Shark-infested,_ Alex almost says in kind. “It went well, I guess.” Alex winces at how trite that sounds – then again, what else is there to say about it? _What else is there to say to Ingrid, in particular?_

Ingrid sighs after a long pause. “You still won’t tell me about Piper?”

Alex pushes her phone closer to her ear. _Did I hear her right?_ “What does that mean?”

“Jesus, Alex,” says Ingrid, tone hitching. There’s that familiar pit again in her stomach, one that tells Alex that they’re suddenly on thin ice. “You think you’re so good at keeping your cards close to your chest.”

Something cold seizes Alex’s chest and _grips --_ tight. “Could you just -- come out with it Ingrid. Please.” _Please._ Alex finds herself leaning against a wall a few meters from Queens' door, knees feeling weak.

“It was—I saw the look on your face when she first came out, Alex. Monday, at the multiplatform meeting. I was looking at you, and you were looking at her.”

 _Shit._ Alex tries to remember that exact moment, yet the most she could recall is being blinded. Like Piper were a _searing flash of light._ “It was a long time ago,” Alex finally says.

Long pause. “I just thought you were going to tell me.”

“And what would I even say?”

“I don’t know,” Ingrid says softly. It sounds like surrender. “Whatever, I should probably – you should probably keep walking home. I should probably go to sleep.”

“Ingrid.”

“Goodbye, Alex.”

Ingrid hangs up with a soft click, and Alex stares at her phone until her screen goes black.

_Fuck._

 


	6. damned smart older women, in general

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much apologies for the brief hiatus.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of it all, Piper soon realizes, is Ingrid.

“Do you trust her?” Polly asks over dinner. It’s a Friday night and the past handful of weeks have been terribly exhausting – Piper chalks it up to the deadly mix of landing on her feet running, adjusting to various people, and, of course: Alex.

“Trust whom?” Piper asks back, distracted. They are sitting amid half-open boxes, yet to be fully unpacked, and Piper is looking for her bottle opener at the most inopportune of moments. She pauses for a moment to stare at their beer bottles, still unopened on the counter. “Ingrid?”

“Yeah, Ingrid,” says Polly, joining Piper in her search. She opens one kitchen drawer and there it is. Piper hisses and curses under her breath as Polly laughs. “I mean, who is this woman?” Polly asks, opening one of the bottles and handing it to Piper.

“I already told you, she’s that travel editor whom Alex dated once upon a time,” Piper says, taking a swig from her bottle.

“And?”

Piper shrugs. _There’s only so much you could learn about someone in the span of a handful of weeks._ “Well. My dad says she’s very picky with people.”

“Mm-hmm,” says Polly, shaking her head, her fork in the air as she gets ready to make a point. “Obvious red flag.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I mean, is she hard to get along with?” says Polly.

“I think she’s just being efficient,” Piper says. “She probably just wants to surround herself with people like her. She’s hardworking, she’s got magnificent ideas -- you should try sitting in a meeting with her. It’s like she takes over the room, and does it without having to talk too much.” Piper pauses to gauge Polly’s reaction before adding: “And she _likes_ me. I mean, as someone who works there, not as--”

“I’m just saying it’s a red flag, Piper,” Polly interrupts. “You don’t have to make me like her.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it?” Polly smiles at her. “Remember Carter?”

“Are you about to compare Ingrid to one of your married boyfriends?”

“One of my married _ex-_ boyfriends.”

Piper makes a face. “Jesus, Polly. We are _not_ approaching this like I’m having an affair with Ingrid.”

Polly blinks. “Wait—are you?”

“Fuck, Polly,” Piper groans. “Of _course_ not.”

“It’s just that—when you talk about her, it sounds like she’s like Alex 2.0.”

Something freezes in Piper’s veins at that. “I did not—that wasn’t how—you’re kidding, right?”

“Or is this just how you respond to Damned Smart Older Women in Power _in general?_ ”

Piper forces a laugh, the sound hurting her throat. “I am _done_ with Damned Smart Older Women in Power _in general_ ,” she says, finishing the rest of her bottle in one go. “Like, five years ago.”

“She said, while drowning all these loose ends in beer,” says Polly, drinking up in kind. “I take it things are not going too well with Alex, either.”

Piper pauses to consider that question. Things with Alex are… _stagnant_ , to be very generous about it. Truth is, she’s been so busy that she hasn’t had the time to process their last non-conversation. Thankfully, her meetings have been relatively Alex-less through and through – may it be by chance or completely intentional, Piper does not really want to know.

But lack of meetings notwithstanding, they still occupy the same building, and when they run across each other in the hallways these days, it’s no longer as awkward as the first couple of times. These days, Alex even manages to smile.

“Neither here nor there,” says Piper. “Being busy helps.”

“Being busy is just distraction,” Polly says. “You haven’t even attempted closure with Alex, have you?”

“Who needs closure when you have five events to plan throughout the year?”

“Piper,” says Polly, warning in her tone. “That’s what you have been doing for the past five years. What were you hoping to accomplish?”

Piper sighs. She stares at her empty beer bottle for a long moment before walking to the fridge to get another. “Want one?” she asks Polly softly. Polly just nods.

“Look, I’m all about taking time, Piper,” she says, taking the bottle from Piper’s hand. “But haven’t we taken enough time?”

“You know,” Piper begins. “I thought I’d find someone in Europe – a hot girl, a hot _guy_ – I mean, I’m shallow, right?”

“Your words, not mine,” Polly says, smiling.

“And I thought my stint there would be filled with attractive people who shared my passions – and it was, don’t get me wrong, but… every time I looked, every time something looked like something, I always thought, _maybe someday_? But not that day.”

“Still Alex, huh.”

“And it _can’t_ be Alex anymore, you know? It doesn’t work – it doesn’t _fit._ ”

“When you were _out there_ ,” says Polly. “But you’re here _now_.”

“It’s all temporary,” Piper says. “I’ll be out there again, as soon as.”

“Well it was also _temporary_ the first time around wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Piper nods, taking a quick swig. The beer tastes different, but pleasantly familiar. Piper looks at the label and curses inwardly. _Of all times to open one of Alex’s favorite brands,_ she thinks, yet she finds herself smiling anyway at a random memory it conjures. “Tell me about how _disastrous_ that first time around was, Pols.”

“Oh, I could do disastrous,” Polly says. “But damn Piper, I hadn’t seen that distinct ridiculous glow about you since.”

Piper looks away; she feels herself blushing, but she readily chalks it up to the beer. “Glowing is for _children_ ,” she says. “I don’t have time for glowing.”

“Because you’ve got five events throughout the year.”

“ _Exactly,_ ” says Piper. “Besides, what are you _even_ suggesting?”

Polly blinks and shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “Alex is still attractive, last I checked.”

“ _Not_ helping,” Piper says with a laugh. “Also, I think she and Ingrid are sort of… in a _thing_.”

Polly pauses in mid-sip and coughs. “ _Christ,_ ” she says. “Warn me sometimes.” Piper laughs louder as she hands Polly a napkin. “You _mean_ to say that girl I’ve been seeing with Alex – _that’s_ Ingrid?”

Piper shrugs. “Probably. I don’t know. In the couple of meetings I sat in with both of them they had a _strange_ energy.”

“If that girl was Ingrid, then _Jesus_ Piper, do you guys ever hire unattractive people?”

“Hey we’re more than just an attractive publication,” says Piper in mock seriousness.

“Yeah, you’re a company of life-ruiners,” says Polly back.

 _Life-ruiners._ Piper laughs hard at how accurate that word is that she has to lift her bottle for a toast. “To life-ruiners,” she says, as Polly lifts her beer in kind.

“Cheers.”

*

Later, Piper finds herself sitting on the floor with Polly, a bottle of absinthe between them.

“Fuck it,” Polly slurs, fiddling with Piper’s phone. “Let me look at her Facebook.”

Piper’s head is heavy and she can feel that familiar beginning of fire behind her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Let me _look_ at Ingrid’s Facebook.” Polly waves Piper’s phone in her face unsteadily. “ _Unlock_ your fucking phone, it won’t let me use it.”

Despite not completely comprehending, Piper finds herself laughing. “Gimme,” she says, reaching for her phone clumsily and hitting Polly’s shoulder instead. Polly tosses the phone at her with a yelp. It lands on the floor beside Piper’s knee with a soft thud. “ _Thank you,_ ” says Piper, picking it up and wiping at the surface. She stares at the darkened screen, confused for a second.

“ _Passcode,_ Piper!” Polly says, nudging her.

Piper blinks. “Oh. Right.” _God the world is so slow and bright,_ she thinks, squinting at her phone. She gets her passcode right the second time. “Why am I even doing this?”

“Because you _loooove_ me,” Polly coos, leaning her head on Piper’s shoulder and pointing to the phone. Again. “Come on.”

“She probably doesn’t even have a Facebook—”

“ _What?_ So you’re not even friends?” Polly pouts, shoving Piper lightly. “How are we even going to stalk her?”

“We are _not_ stalking her, she’s one of my bosses—”

“Like _that_ stopped anyone before,” says Polly, smirking.

“Haha, funny,” Piper says, shoving Polly back. “See? There are a _thousand_ Ingrids here and—oh wait. This is _her_.”

“ _See?_ ” Polly leans in and snatches the phone from Piper’s hand. “God damn, she’s one of those single-profile-photo people?”

“Probably someone who understands _privacy settings_ ,” says Piper, trying to get her phone back. Polly keeps it away from her, hands flailing. “Polly, I swear to God if you do something—”

“I am _not,_ ” says Polly, still fending off Piper’s hands. “ _Relax._ ”

“ _Polly.”_ Suddenly, Piper is _sober,_ like the alcohol has just drained out of her at the flip of a switch. “Give it here.”

“ _No._ ” Polly shrieks and laughs as Piper moves closer, arms and hands tangling. There’s a brief tussle as Piper knocks down an empty glass. The phone slips out of Polly’s grip and slides into the gap underneath one of Piper’s couches.

“ _Jesus_ , Polly” says Piper. Polly just giggles sleepily until she’s lying still on the floor, softly snoring.

*

“Hey Piper! Slow down a bit.”

Piper freezes in her tracks as she turns around. _Shit._ “Hey, Ingrid.” It comes out trite and awkward – then again, what else is Piper supposed to say? _Hey about that thing – my friend was the one who added you on Facebook, sorry?_ Sure, it’s been days since Polly’s _mishap_ and Ingrid hasn’t exactly said _anything_ during their meetings, but just the same, every time she and Ingrid are alone like this, Piper still gets jittery.  

_Please don’t say anything. Please._

“So, listen,” Ingrid begins, dropping her voice and moving closer, in a way that tells Piper this is going to be a long-ish conversation. She feels her knees weaken for a moment. “We’re a few weeks to D-Day 1, and I know every time you see me I always have one more thing for you to do, but I do hope you understand that it’s just work eh?”

Piper blinks. _I’m a complete idiot._ “Of course,” she says. “Why _wouldn’t_ I think that?”

Ingrid looks at her like she’s tempering a frown. “Oh. So we’re okay here?” she asks. “’Cause these past few days have felt like you have been avoiding me or something.”

 _Oh God._ Piper’s heart plummets. “About that…”

“See? And when we talk like this, you always get this pale look—did Alex say something?”

“Alex?” Piper catches on immediately. “Why would Alex say anything?” _Just when I thought this conversation couldn’t get any worse._

Ingrid’s eyes widen slightly; like she knows she’s played her cards wrong or something. She tries to shrug it off with a small laugh, leaning against a nearby cubicle wall. “Just—I don’t know. Forget I said anything. It’s _childish._ ”

“ _Childish?_ ” Piper repeats, noting the strangeness of Ingrid’s preferred word. “I promise to tell you something equally childish if you would elaborate on that.”

Ingrid smiles sheepishly. _What is going on here?_ Piper tries her best not to look inappropriately amused.“Well, Alex and I, we’re having this—this bit of a fight, and I know you guys are close—”

“Oh, Alex and I are _not_ close,” Piper interrupts. “Whatever gave you the idea—”

“Oh?” says Ingrid. “I thought—I mean, I assumed because she was once your trainor that you were—”

“ _No,_ ” Piper says, a bit too eager. And then, composing herself: “I mean – _no,_ that was a long time ago, we’re no longer as close as you think we are.”

Ingrid exhales like she’s relieved. “Good then. I mean, that Alex has not said anything.” And then, “Your turn to share something childish.”

Piper blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You said you’d tell me something childish as well if I told you more about it.”

 _Oh._ It’s Piper’s turn to take a deep breath. “Well,” she begins, looking away. “A couple of weekends ago I was with a friend, and we sort of got drunk and we were hanging onto our phones.”

Ingrid laughs, relaxing. “Go on.”

“And then said friend added a handful of people on Facebook—”

“ _Ah,_ ” says Ingrid, smiling wider at her epiphany. “So that was what it was. And here I thought we could finally be _friends_.”

 _That’s it? This is Ingrid’s actual reaction?_ Piper wants to kick herself for being so _anxious_ about this moment. “And I know you probably have some social media guidelines about not infringing into other people’s private online spaces, but I figured I’d talk to you first before unfriending you—”

“What? _No,_ don’t—I mean, don’t you want to find out what my Chinese zodiac means?”

“Sorry?”

Ingrid laughs. “Lighten up, Piper. I could use a friend – even a virtual one.”

Piper finally manages to laugh along, surprised and confused at Ingrid’s offer. “All right.”

“So we’re _really_ okay here?”

Piper nods. “Of course.”

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way – I kind of need you for something.”

Piper sighs, still smiling. “I’ll walk with you.”

*

On the night before the first event, Piper finds herself locked in the bathroom, talking on the phone with Polly. “God, I’m so _exhausted_.”

“Piper,” Polly says. She sounds exactly like she should: Like she’s been fielding calls like this on nights like this all month. “You’re almost there.”

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight.”

“If you don’t sleep, you’ll sleep _during_ the event tomorrow. Would you like that?”

“Well, there were some choice locations I’d love to snooze in—”

“ _Piper._ Focus.”

Piper breathes in and shakes it out, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re right.” And then: “I just really _really_ want to get this over and done with, you know?”

“I know, sweetie,” says Polly, tone softening. “Just one more push. Then we’re getting drunk at the open bar tomorrow night.”

That perks Piper up considerably. “Did you just say—”

“Yes, barring unforeseen circumstances such as overtime, unannounced professions of love, and accidents,” Polly interrupts. “Like I would miss an opportunity to be your plus-one in your posh events ever again.”

“ _Fucking finally,_ ” Piper exclaims. “I knew you’d come if I just kept on pestering you.”

“Be there when the bar opens at…?”

“Eight,” Piper says. “The bar opens at eight. Come in white.” Piper’s still on the phone when a knock interrupts them. “Got to go, all right. Call me tomorrow.” She hangs up and fixes her hair before turning to the door. “I’ll be out in a sec!”

Piper rushes out as soon as the door opens.

“Whoa, slow down here--”

By the time Piper actually realizes _who_ the person waiting outside the door is, it’s already too late – she has already walked right into her.

“Shit.” Piper looks up slowly – she’d recognize this body anywhere. _This warmth._ Piper breathes in, the heady feeling rushing into her head. When she meets Alex’s eye, she’s already smiling at their small mishap, eyes twinkling behind her glasses.

“Hey,” Alex begins, clearing her throat and taking a step backward, steadying herself and putting space between them. “We were wondering what was taking you so long.”

Piper blinks, the moment broken. She remembers how she’d just excused herself for a minute from the night’s alignment meeting. “Sorry!” she says, touching her forehead. “I lost track of time.”

“Ingrid sent me to look for you,” Alex says. These days have been admittedly better, Alex-wise – the urgency of everything has seemed to bring out the best out of everyone, and the two of them are no exceptions. Piper thinks she could be coming to a point of comfort, where Alex is concerned.

Piper stares at Alex’s boots on the floor, suddenly embarrassed by the churning in her gut. _Rein this in, Chapman._ “I’m sorry, I should have been more—I’m sorry, let me just have a minute.”

“I could say you were feeling sick,” Alex offers. “Or you had to attend to a personal emergency over the phone.” Piper just smiles at her, somewhat touched. “I thought I heard you talking with someone.”

“Polly,” Piper answers. “I think we should probably start walking back.”

“I could go ahead, tell them I found you alive and that you’re coming--”

Piper laughs, falling in step beside her. “No, I’ll walk back with you.”

“Oh,” Alex says, surprised. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Piper shoves her hands into her pockets. “I mean – why not?”

Alex nods, stowing away her hands in kind. The uncertainty is unfamiliar but endearing, Piper thinks. _Come on, Piper. Stop seeing things that aren’t there._

The walk is quiet but surprisingly light; Piper tries to chalk it up with her earlier conversation with Polly, and how she usually feels more relaxed afterwards. Alex keeps her eyes on the floor, her hands to herself; it feels like she’s trying not to ruin the moment.

“I saw your supplement mock-ups,” Piper ventures. “Congratulations in advance.”

“Thanks,” says Alex, lifting her head to smile at her. “Ingrid’s a merciless editor.” And then, “Thanks for setting up the interviews. They were… _enlightening --_ for the interns, I mean.”

 _Interns._ Something lodges in Piper’s throat at the word. “No problem,” she manages to say. “How many are you training this year?”

“We have a dozen or so specifically assigned to anniversary events,” Alex says. “Boo, Nicky and I take turns taking them to interviews, running through their copy – the whole shebang. It’s unbelievable, how willing these kids are to _suffer_.”

Piper laughs out loud at that. “Still the sadist, I see,” she says.

“Hey, bad copy speaks for itself – very horribly, actually.”

“Come on, they can’t be _that_ bad.”

“Your faith in the grammar of today’s youth is clearly untested.”

Piper shakes her head. “I bet none of those kids thought about your grammar Nazi ways when they thought about signing up for the ‘attractive one handling supplements’.”

It’s Alex’s turn to laugh out loud. “I should work at my Stern Librarian look then,” she says, stopping to look at her, adjusting her glasses in that way that makes Piper go weak in the knees. “‘Attractive one handling supplements’? Really, Piper?” she asks, lifting her brow.

Piper feels a blush come on. _Christ,_ she just thinks. _Am I really that exhausted?_ Piper figures she’s so spread thinly that she has zero energy to devote to other things – such as resisting _this._ “Their words, not mine,” Piper says. “I don’t blame them for having _eyes._ ”

For the first time since getting back here, Piper finds herself laughing with Alex – an honest-to-goodness laugh that starts from her belly and fills her mouth. The sound echoes in the dark, quiet portion of the hallway that leads to the meeting room, where they’re headed.

“How did we take so long to get _here_?” Alex asks, after the laugh dies down.

Piper shakes her head – she knows Alex is talking about something else entirely. “I don’t know either,” she just says.

The door to the meeting room at the end of the hallway opens, flooding the dark space between with light. “Hey, Alex!” It’s Nicky hollering. “Did you get Chapman?”

Alex bites her lip, like she’s trying not to start laughing out loud again. “She’s alive,” she yells back. “We’re right here.”

 _Right here._ Piper clenches her fists in her pockets, trying her best not to reach out. “Sorry,” she calls out as well, resuming her walk. “I wasn’t feeling very well.”

“Oh, sorry,” Nicky says. “You any better?”

Piper hazards a glance at Alex, who smiles as she catches her looking.

“Much better,” she just finds herself saying, moving faster.  

*

“Sorry,” Piper murmurs, sliding back into her seat.

“Feeling better Piper?” Ingrid just gives her a tight smile before turning back to her presentation.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Piper squints at the screen – she’s missed at least five slides. _Better get a copy of this later._ “Sorry to interrupt.”

“We were just talking about d-day deployments. I’ll just run through it very quickly – Photo is lending us three -- one for the morning talks, one for the after-party, and one mid-shift who will overlap with the two. Socmed has two people covering live for Twitter and Instagram. No more post-talk press cons, so we’ll just have interns interviewing at the holding area and running after the tight scheds of the ambassadors. Boo, Nicky and Alex have ten to twelve people between them, should be enough.”

Piper jots it all down; it’s a review, mostly. Piper consolidated most of the personnel requests, and she’s relieved to hear most of them are pushing through. “Have you gone through the site map?”

“Just about to,” says Ingrid, turning her presentation back on. The slide now features a modified floor plan with work stations. “You’re running the show from here.” Ingrid encircles with a laser pointer a spot right in the middle of the room across the main stage, where she presumes the tech booth will be stationed. “We were looking for a second-floor spot, but the one with the clearest view is too far from the stage.”

Piper nods. “It _is_ a massive ballroom,” she says. “We could see better with this setup.”

“There will be holding rooms here and here – your interview rooms, Boo and team.”

“Got that,” says Nicky, who’s sitting across the room between Boo and Alex. “The interns are asking about their call time.”

“Show kicks off at 11. Maybe 8:30? They’d just be in the way of setup if they come earlier,” says Ingrid. “Also: Remind your kids – no beaching before or during the event, okay? The pool is going to be distracting.”

“All right,” says Boo. “No swimming interns. Noting that.”

Piper tries not to laugh. She gets where Ingrid is coming from – the place is _astounding,_ and it will be difficult to rein in twelve children simultaneously trying to Instagram the view.

“Let’s just not get into any accidents,” says Ingrid, flashing the timeline of tomorrow’s events. “Piper’s going to run this show based on this timetable. Do you have any edits, Piper?”

“None,” Piper says. “This is still the latest based on follow-ups this morning.”

“The Greek ambassador still isn’t coming?”

Piper shakes her head. “Yep, still her deputy delivering her speech on her behalf.”

“Damn,” Ingrid says. Off the puzzled look on everyone else’s faces, she continues: “Have you _seen_ the Greek ambassador? Mighty _fine._ ” Confused murmurs ripple through the room before Ingrid herself finally breaks into a laugh. “Jesus, people. We have got to lighten up.”

Alex is first to laugh, followed by Nicky and Boo – the sound so infectious that it doesn’t take long for Piper to join in. _This room needs to laugh,_ she just thinks, watching Ingrid watching Alex.

 _Ah. And then, there’s that._ Piper tries to shrug it off as soon as she sees it – she’s made it a point to make it none of her business. _Why should it be?_ When she shifts her eye, she sees Nicky looking at her quizzically, like she’s saying, _I got that._

But really: _Got what?_

Even Piper isn’t so sure.

*

The meeting ends around midnight, with Ingrid slipping out second to last. “Sorry to end this so late,” she says, yawning. “Birth pains anyone?”

Piper offers a weak smile in return. “This is why I am never having children.”

“At least events don’t have to go to college.”

“Or wake up crying in the middle of the night – oh wait, that’s me.” Piper laughs lightly at her own joke as Ingrid lets out a soft giggle. “We are going _slightly_ crazy, aren’t we? I think it’s the sleepless nights.”

“I think it’s all the fast food we eat during meetings,” Ingrid says. “Good night, Piper.”

“Good night, Ing. Rest well.”

“I doubt I could, but thank you.”

Ingrid shuts the door after her, the sound echoing in the room. Piper’s about to head out herself when the door opens slightly again. “Forget anything?” Piper calls out, checking under the table for anything she may leave behind before walking toward the door.

“I figured I’d do a final check before heading out.”

 _Alex._ Piper feels the familiar head rush at the mere sound of her voice. “You on night duty now?” Piper says, trying to be casual.

“You heading home?”

There’s a strange weight to her question that Piper wishes she does not recognize. “Aren’t you?” she asks cautiously.

“In a bit,” Alex says, holding the door open for her. Suddenly, Piper is five years younger and incorporating Alex’s notes into her shitty re-drafts. _This is not the time for this, Piper._ She forces herself to blink. “Come on. I don’t want to take the elevator alone.”

Piper finds herself laughing at that, finally coming back to her senses. She tries to shake the déjà vu off and proceeds to walk out of the room and into the hallway leading to the lift. “I promise not to tell anyone the great Alex Vause is actually afraid of the dark.”

Alex walks right beside her, both hands in her pockets. “I prefer it when people call me ‘the attractive one handling supplements’ thank you,” she says, somewhat smugly. “I mean, don’t you?”

 _Jesus, she’s turning the charm on full blast, and I might be too exhausted to care, but I sure as hell am not falling for_ that _._ “You should hang around your interns more often then,” Piper says, ignoring Alex’s question entirely. “They seem to like you a lot.”

“They are a crazy handful, but they really _are_ children,” Alex says, sighing. Piper notes the way she’d underlined _children_ like she absolutely detests the undertone of Piper’s suggestion. Piper thinks about apologizing for it but ultimately decides against saying anything. “I should tell HR not to give us too many next year.”

“You and your happy problems,” Piper just says, shaking her head. Alex just hums, a neutral tone that Piper couldn’t read.

Piper looks up, staring as the numbers light up and dim, one after the other; counting the floors. _Please do not be empty. Please._ Piper has come so far, but this is the first time she is actually faced with this particular dilemma. Alex says nothing until the elevator doors open on their floor.

It is empty.

 _Fuck,_ Piper thinks, trying not to look so flustered. Beside her, Alex says nothing for a moment before murmuring, “Ah.” _Is she just as surprised as I am?_ When Piper looks at her, Alex is making a small sweeping motion with her hand: “After you.”

 _Shit._ Piper swallows hard as she steps inside.

This is going to be the longest two minutes of her life.


	7. call & response

Alex is the first to arrive at the hotel that morning, driving all the way from her apartment in the early morning light. She slept, but not too well; she also knows it’s _not_ about the event.

_Damned elevators, never getting stuck in you again._ Alex gets out of the car and inhales. The morning air feels new – crisp and sharp like fresh sheets. She had hoped she’d just sleep it all off, but then again who was she kidding? _This is Piper._

_Here now years later, and still there is no sleeping her off._ Alex laughs faintly to herself, standing all alone in the parking lot, listening for the sound of the events group setting up. Right now, it’s nothing but a faraway hum. _Damn, how early am I?_ For the first time since waking, Alex checks her watch: Fifteen minutes to seven. _Shit, I could go for a couple of laps or two and be dry by intern call time._

Walking into the hotel lobby, she can’t help but think about last night. Last night was progress; last night was the furthest they’d come since Piper got here. _Last night was good,_ Alex thinks, remembering how their fuzzy reflection looked against the inside of the elevator door: Like they weren’t _angry_ anymore. Alex is done being angry. _Or I could be just exhausted. I don’t even know anymore._

There’s no question about it even -- having Piper around and being weird about it is _exhausting._  

As expected, the ballroom is empty, save for the barebones of what Alex presumes would be the elevated technical booth right in the middle of the room. _Piper would be right here,_ she thinks, wondering how steady this stage would be, given that it is around four feet off the floor.

Alex crosses the ballroom to take a peek at the pool – calm and quiet on this slow morning. She slips her phone out to take a picture; it’d be difficult to get a clean shot of this view during the busy hours later on. Remembering Ingrid’s tired reminder last night about keeping the kids out of the water, Alex starts laughing softly to herself again. Beyond the pool is the beach. _Just get through this,_ Alex thinks, imagining the sand underneath her feet, the water cold against her toes.

The moment breaks when her phone rings, and Alex gets to it, cursing under her breath. “Hey Vause, this is your wake-up call.” It’s Nicky, still groggy sounding, and probably still caffeine-less. “See you at the hotel in an hour.”

Alex smiles. “Haul your ass into the shower, Nichols,” she just says, hanging up.

*

The hotel café starts serving coffee at seven-thirty, and Alex is glad to finally have a booth to sit in, so she could finally open her laptop and start checking her e-mail. She looks at Piper’s latest timetable one more time, taking down notes for the intern briefing later. They’re admittedly putting a lot of responsibility on their interns, but it seems to be Ingrid’s general instruction, and Alex really isn’t in the mood to argue.

_Ingrid._ Alex knows sooner or later they’d have to talk about Piper. Truth be told, she’s been hesitant only because she doesn’t quite know what to say, especially with Piper now around. Regardless of how confident she is about Ingrid’s secret-keeping skills, Alex still does not feel comfortable saying anything about it.

The truce is upon a thread so thin; she doesn’t want to fuck it up.

_But I tell Ingrid everything._ Alex stares at her dormant desktop as she ponders that thought. Sex aside, Ingrid has been a solid confidant; for years, she’s been the void into which many of Alex’s frustrations disappeared. _But not Piper,_ she just thinks, shutting her laptop down. _Piper is something that’s just mine._

Of course, Alex knows how _strange_ that thought actually is; she wishes she could say that isn’t the first phrasing to her mind, but she can’t.

Ingrid arrives some fifteen minutes later, and Alex quickly finishes her coffee before stowing her laptop away, ready to move. She knows coffee is the first thing Ingrid would look for, and Alex is _definitely_ not ready for so much awkwardness in the morning.

“You’re early,” Ingrid greets, smiling. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Not very well,” Alex says. And then, turning her gaze toward the far end of the ballroom, she adds: “I better check on the interview holding rooms.”     

Ingrid’s smile falters, but only slightly. “Right then. Coffee?”

“I’m done. All yours.” Alex tries a smile before heading out without looking back.

*

At half past 8, Alex starts getting a little jittery. _Where is everyone?_ None of the interns made it to the 8:30 a.m. call time, but Alex is not worried about the kids.

Alex is looking for Piper.

The technical booth in the middle of the room is almost done by the time Alex re-emerges from scanning the interview holding rooms behind the main stage. They were passable, as far as Alex is concerned; she’s held interviews in less presentable areas, and the set-up provided by the hotel is fine by her standards.

“Hey,” Alex calls to one of the men putting the final touches to the technical booth. “Have you seen Ms Chapman?”

“Who?”

Alex leans closer, clearing her throat. “Piper Chapman, our floor director.”

The man nods. “She was here a while ago. I think she’s in the hotel café with the backstage director.”

_Ingrid._ Alex breathes in, tapping the man’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Alex sees the two of them right away – Ingrid and Piper sitting across each other, hunched over a table presumably containing the final timetable. On the booth beside them are Nicky and Boo plus a handful of interns, drinking coffee. Nicky is talking with her hands.

Boo is the first to notice Alex when she walks in. “Good of you to finally join us Vause,” she greets. “Sleep well?”

Alex smirks. “I was here first,” she says, perching herself on the edge of a nearby table. “Where are we?”

“Just making sure the kids are caffeinated,” Nicky says. “Can’t have them walking around sleepy like zombies.”

“Agreed.” Alex scans their faces – coffee or no, they still look _asleep,_ somewhat. “More coffee,” she just says, casually glancing over at Piper.

Piper looks up for a moment, catching Alex’s eye – it’s a millisecond of contact, but it’s enough to put a familiar flutter in Alex’s gut.

“See something you like?” asks Nicky, not even looking up from her cup.

“Shut up,” Alex says.

_This is going to be a long day,_ Alex just thinks as she moves away.

*

It all goes to plan until about lunch time when the unexpected kicks in – the Greek ambassador makes it. Alex overhears Ingrid’s _Oh my god_ so clearly on their radios, her voice crackling in the air, blending with Piper’s crisp laugh. _I know,_ Piper’s telling Ingrid, before clearing her throat and calling for audio.

A myriad of things start churning in Alex’s stomach – it’s a heady mix of Piper’s laughter and Ingrid’s eagerness and the general hunger that has begun creeping in at the approach of lunch time. That, and the fact that the Greek ambassador turns out to be a _sight._

“R u seein this?” Nicky texts from across the ballroom, pen in her mouth. _Goddamn Nichols and that oral fixation._ Despite the general unpleasantness in her stomach, Alex finds it in herself to laugh.

A characteristic hush falls over the entire hall as the ambassador speaks. Alex knows this command pretty well – she’s seen it many times before, yet each time is always different. There’s always something about a woman who could hold a room – more so, one who could hold an audience as large as this. Alex finds herself breathing in deeply before exhaling, a long breath emptying her lungs.

At some point, Alex finds her gaze drifting over to Piper’s station – from where she’s standing, Alex could see Piper leaning over a table, headset half-off, clutching a piece of paper in her hands as she alternates watching the actual stage and the monitor beside her. _And hello to you too, hotshot,_ Alex thinks. She can’t help but remember the event from five years ago, seeking Piper out in the war room—

Alex takes in another deep breath. _How did you get so grown up?_ she finds herself thinking.

The speech ends and the crowd breaks out in applause. On the tech booth, Piper tugs at her headset and claps, smiling at the stage. At some point, she turns her head and catches Alex looking; she holds her breath as Piper’s smile widens slowly, light filling her eyes.

_Damn,_ Alex thinks, eyes unblinking. Had she really believed she’d be able to look at any other girl the same way again?

*

“You’re zoning out,” says Boo, taking the spot beside Alex halfway through the afternoon’s last speaker. Alex yawns in response -- with all due respect to the German ambassador, of course; it is but unfortunate that his talk should fall on ideal siesta hours.

“Can you blame me?” Alex murmurs, taking her glasses off and wiping them. “How are the kids?”

“The morning kids are already transcribing,” Boo says. “The afternoon kids are waiting for this ambassador to finish.” Alex nods, though Boo’s words are at best fuzzy inside her head. “I didn’t just mean you were zoning out just now – you were zoning out the _entire_ day.”

Alex blinks, standing up straighter against the wall behind her. She tries not to sneak another glance at Piper on the tech booth. “I wasn’t zoning out, I was just… tuning out the uninteresting parts, that’s all.”

“The interesting parts being held solely on the tech booth, of course.”

Alex groans. “What are you even doing here, Boo?”

Boo laughs, patting Alex firmly. “I’m just saying – that’s going to be worth $600.”

_That fucking bet again._ “Fuck off,” says Alex, shoving Boo away lightly with a laugh. “Too early in the game to tell.”

“Oh really?” Boo says. “Because honestly I feel bad for not suggesting we also count _eye sex,_ because Jesus Christ at that rate you guys should already get a room or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alex says quickly, looking away.  Her neck starts feeling warm, and she does _not_ want to give Boo the satisfaction of a blush. “It’s her day. I just want to make sure it turns out all right.”

The smattering of applause signals the end of the German ambassador’s speech. “That’s my kids’ queue,” says Boo, preparing to chase the ambassador as he goes down the stage. Before leaving Alex’s side, Boo reaches out to punch her in the arm. “Go get her tiger.”

Alex just laughs. “Fuck you, Boo,” she says. “Get to work.”

*

The last portion of the day’s event has Bill handing out awards to the company’s top tourism advertisers. “We wouldn’t be here without you,” says Bill in his closing speech, raising a half-filled wine glass at the crowd. Applause fills the room as a victory anthem plays in the background.

A warm glow from the side doors illuminates the ballroom, the breeze now coming in with a faint chill. _Sunset,_ Alex thinks, turning her face toward the light. Outside, the sky starts painting itself in magnificent hues.

“Almost done here.” Alex turns her head sharply, surprised at the voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

_Ingrid._ Alex clenches her jaw. Did she really think she could hide from her all day? “You didn’t,” she says tersely. “Congratulations. Event’s a success.”

“Half of it is all Piper,” Ingrid says. She’s no longer wearing her backstage director gear – in fact, she’s now in a stunning white ensemble. _After party,_ Alex remembers, looking down at the mess she currently has on with slight embarrassment. “I’m doing the after party prep,” Ingrid continues, as if she has to explain what she’s wearing. “Sched says the only time I could get dressed is during Bill’s speech.”

“Ah,” Alex says, nodding. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.”

Awkward dead air. _Christ, if this were my college broadcast elective finals I would definitely fail it,_ Alex thinks. She tries to focus on Bill, who’s now shaking hands with the CEOs on the stage. The victory anthem keeps playing above their heads.

“If you don’t want to talk about her,” Ingrid tries again, sliding closer. “Then let’s drop it.”

Alex nods. “Fine. Thanks.”

After a while, Ingrid sighs. “I don’t know how else to do this, Alex.”

“I thought we were dropping it,” Alex says. _I don’t know how else to do this, either._

“Of course.” Ingrid’s tone is noticeably colder. Back on the stage, the emcee is inviting everyone to cocktails, and the crowd starts milling about. “I should probably get to the after party.” And then: “I’ll be around.”

*

The victory anthem eventually segues into some energetic show tune, and Alex watches amusedly as some people start dancing as they make their way to the after party, shaking hands and touching cheeks. Even the lights have taken on a somewhat playful mood; it lifts Alex’s spirits somewhat, her run-in with Ingrid notwithstanding.

When she remembers to check the tech booth again, Piper is no longer there. A slight panic overtakes her: _Is Piper skipping the after party?_ The thought dampens her excitement.

“Hey Vause.” When Alex turns her head, she finds Nicky walking toward her, now also already dressed for the after party. “Bill’s looking for you backstage.” And then, looking at Alex’s still-casual get-up: “You after-partyin’, or what?”

Alex touches her shirt, suddenly self-conscious. “My clothes are in the car.” And then: “What does Bill want me for?”

“Nothing serious,” Nicky says. “He says he’s been looking for you all day.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“So Boo tells me.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Nicky’s mischievous smile widens. “Can’t say I’m not pleased with this development.”

“Because it inches you closer to the jackpot.”

“Because I have _always_ rooted for you.” Nicky winks at Alex, patting her shoulder before moving away. “I’ll see you at the bar. Free booze!”

Open bar isn’t until 8, Alex knows as much, but the day has been long and the least she could do is wait a couple of hours to get properly drunk – for _free._

*

 She runs into Bill while on the way back to her car. “Leaving already?” he asks, smiling. “Looking forward to the event supplement. Some eager _army_ you had today.”

Alex smiles, scratching the back of her neck. “Yeah. Quite a handful, but they got the job done.”

“Great. Stay for the booze?”

“Oh, I am,” Alex says. “Just getting into better clothes. Nicky looked like she didn’t want to be _seen_ with me.”

Bill laughs. “Good. If you run into Piper, could you tell her to dance with her old man later or something?”

“Yeah. Of course.” _There will be dancing?_ Alex bites down on her lip. _At least I have something legit to say._ “She’s staying then? For the after party, I mean.”

“I think. Polly’s coming, last I heard.”

“Ah.” _There goes._

“Anyway, don’t let me get in the way of your wardrobe change. Congratulations, Vause.” Bill sends her off with both hands waving as he walks away quickly, disappearing into the crowd.

Alex thinks about that all the way to her car and back – _Polly’s coming_ – and lets the thought simmer in her gut. _At least she’s staying,_ she just thinks; Alex feels much younger, like she’s nursing a stupid little crush. _Snap out of this,_ she tells herself as she heads for the main lobby restrooms, curiously empty for such a busy hour.

She’s on her way out when she sees Piper again – they always seem to be running into each other in doorways, what’s up with that? – and Alex tries her hardest not to let out an audible gasp. Like her, Piper had also changed into something less _production crew-ish_ and more… _party appropriate_.

“You look stunning,” Alex greets, trying to pass it off as a completely casual complement; like her heart isn’t pounding at the words and the sight.

Piper turns her face away, avoiding Alex’s eyes. “You too,” she says softly. And then, “They’re not going to force us to do a program tonight, right?”

Alex laughs – trust Piper to still be tense and nervous even _after_ the event. “Fuck no,” she says. “If they ever hint at it, we’re going to mount a protest. I plan to get _drunk_.”

Piper laughs with her in kind, relaxing visibly as she faces the mirror, opening her purse. “Nice plan,” she says, looking at Alex in the mirror as she retouches her make-up.

Something familiar seizes Alex at the sight: Just like that, it’s morning in Paris again, and Piper is getting ready for work, putting on her make-up using Alex’s dresser, talking to her through the mirror as she lounged in bed sleepily, buried warmly under the covers. Alex blinks. Piper just looks at her like she doesn’t notice the memory run through Alex’s face.

“How were your interns today?” Piper diverts. Alex takes a tentative step closer, approaching the sink. She half-expects Piper to start moving away, but she doesn’t. What Piper does instead is fix Alex an odd look.  

_She’s as intrigued as I am,_ Alex thinks. “Useful,” she finds herself saying, a moment after. “How was the production team today?” She tries not to stare as Piper tucks her lipstick away; tries not to fixate at the bright red hue of Piper’s mouth. _Goddamn it._ Alex inhales, grip tightening on the edge of the bathroom counter as she tries to find a neutral place to stare at.

Alex is trying to be interested at the soap dispenser sitting in the corner when Piper’s voice breaks into her effort. “Helpful,” Piper’s saying, taking a deep breath herself. The sound prompts Alex to switch her eyes back to the mirror, where she catches Piper’s eye finally. “So.”

“So.” Alex braces herself against the sink, waiting for the rest of Piper’s sentence, her knuckles holding on to the counter paling. Piper opens her mouth to say something, only to close her mouth again, hesitating. “You all right?”

“What do you think?” Piper asks softly, biting down at her lip.

_Oh Jesus._ Slowly, Alex turns toward her, lifting an unsteady hand to her shoulder as she brushes Piper’s hair off it gently. Piper does not seem to be breathing; neither is Alex. She lets her hand linger for a split-second before pulling away.

“You did well today,” Alex says finally, exhaling. She watches Piper’s shoulder dip as she lets out the breath she’s holding herself. “You deserve to drink your fill tonight.”

The smile that reaches Piper’s eyes is shaky at best. “Yeah,” she says, swallowing. Alex notes the shallow rise and fall of her chest; the faint blush starting at the base of her neck. “You, too.”

“I will,” Alex nods, putting her hand back on the counter as Piper starts moving for the door. “Have fun tonight.”

Hand on the door, Piper looks over her shoulder and says, “Just enough.” And then, “Have you seen my dad, by the way? I haven’t seen him all day. I mean, apart from his appearance in the program.”

Alex blinks. “Oh, I did. He says you should dance with him later. Called himself an old man. You know the drill.”

Piper laughs, shaking her head. “There is _dancing_? This is going to be an embarrassing night.”

“A very interesting night ahead, then,” Alex says. “So. I’ll see you around?”

“Dancing even, maybe.”

“Please don’t get my hopes up,” Alex says – meant as a joke, but Alex knows it comes across as more than that. _Oh fuck it,_ she just thinks boldly. _No regrets for tonight._

Piper laughs, turning the knob finally and giving Alex a small wave. “Later,” she just says, closing the door after her.

_A promise and a threat rolled into one._ Alex looks at herself in the mirror as she steadies her breathing, loosening her grip on the washroom counter slowly and feeling the heat return to her knuckles. Alex looks at her watch: Seven-forty-five.

_Fifteen minutes to open bar,_ Alex thinks, washing her hands a final time before heading out.

*

When she gets to the bar, Boo and Nicky are already on it, nursing beers. “Paid for those?” Alex smirks, motioning at her watch as she takes the nearest empty seat. The bar is located at the edge of the ballroom, right beside the hotel café, which is closed for the night. Cocktail tables lined the periphery of the ballroom as lights danced across the floor. Onstage, a small band is setting up, getting ready for their set.

“Next event we’re having, ask Ingrid to move open bar _earlier,_ ” Nicky grumbles, nudging Alex with her beer holding hand.

“In consideration of her alcoholic colleagues, why not?” says Alex, ordering a beer in kind. The bartender points to his wrist before holding up two fingers. _Two minutes to open bar._ Alex grins at him and gives him a thumbs up sign. “Or, maybe we could just end _later._ ”

Boo groans. “Are you with us or against us here, Vause?”

“I was _kidding,_ ” Alex says, turning around as the band starts playing some upbeat tune. It’s been a while since she was last in a gig like this, and Alex finds herself having to squint at the swiveling lights. “Who are these guys?”

“Dunno. Entertainment booked them,” says Boo. “Some up and coming bunch – they don’t actually sound so bad.”

Alex shrugs, listening in. “Hey, the drinks are free,” she says, just as the bartender comes over with her bottle. “ _Finally._ ” Boo and Nicky groan in chorus as Alex takes a swig. “You know what they say about those who wait.”

“Yada-yada,” Nicky just says, lifting her bottle in a toast. “Catch up, you fuck.”

Boo laughs, clinking her bottle with Nicky’s. “One down, girls. One down.”

“One down,” says Alex in kind. “Cheers.”

*

The bar gets busy soon enough as guests and officemates start raiding it, drinking like none of them have work the following morning. It gets tiring after a while, so Alex picks up her mojito and slips away, unnoticed in the dark. She walks right past the dancing crowd and steps out into the pleasant chill of the night.

The path to the beach is lit with low lamps that don’t even get past Alex’s knees. Alex slips her shoes off as she follows the path, which winds around the pool before leading past the low fences. The sand under her feet is cold; Alex breathes deep and lets the salty ocean air fill her lungs.

_That’s more like it._ Alex takes a sip from her drink as she takes another step closer to the shore, stopping only when the sand gets damp. She considers folding her pants up to wade in when she is interrupted by the sound of nearby splashing.

“Who’s there?” Alex whips her head around, searching for the source of the sound and backing away from the water. A few meters down the shore, she could barely make out the figure slowly approaching in the dark.

Alex downs the rest of her drink as she walks toward it in kind. “Hello?”

“Sorry.” _Goddamn, it’s Piper._ “I saw you walk out, and figured – it’s a good idea.”

Alex laughs, shaking the nerves out. “Oh,” she says, keeping the air out of her face amid the wind. “It’s you.” _Not that this isn’t something to get jittery about, either._ “Yeah, the open bar was getting kind of crowded.”

Piper lifts her empty glass at her. “Cheers, eh.”

Alex smiles, clinking their empty glasses together. “We need a refill.”

“Wanna go back already?”

“Nope,” says Alex. “Do you?”

“No,” Piper says. In the dark, Alex can see Piper looking at her openly – in a way she hadn’t really let herself all this time. “Are we—is this okay now? Do we just… I don’t know. Is this working for you?”

_We definitely need a refill,_ Alex thinks, turning her face toward the sea. “I don’t know either. It sure feels better this way.” She shifts her head again, this time to stare at their toes in the sand. “I mean – doesn’t it? Like a clean slate.”

“Do you believe in clean slates?” Piper asks.

When Alex laughs, she opens her lips and lets the bitter-salty taste of the sea into her mouth. It rests lightly on her tongue. “Have you watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?”

Piper laughs in kind. “Is that your way of saying the only way out of this is a lobotomy?”

“Maybe,” says Alex. “It doesn’t have to be so hard, you know. If you’re sweeping all that under the rug –”

Piper sighs. “I have been trying,” she says, running her hand into her hair. The wind is picking up and the chill is crawling into Alex’s bones. “We have four more events between us, and honestly, I can’t bear walking into a meeting still worried about you. About _this._ ”

“Then don’t,” says Alex softly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

Alex throws the question right back. “Are _you_?”  

Piper bites her lip, wrapping her hands around herself. “Night getting chilly,” she says instead. “We better get back in.”

Alex nods, rubbing at her arms for warmth. “You ever get hold of your dad?”

“Yeah,” Piper says, starting the walk back. “We had that dance. Did you see?”

“Damn, I must have been too busy downing beers,” Alex says, walking after her. _Just like this,_ she thinks. _Light like this. I could deal with this._ “Earlier, he said something about Polly coming.”

“Something came up, she can’t make it,” Piper says over her shoulder, lowering her glass on the first table she sees before lifting the hem of her dress higher as she walks. From the little light the path lamps are giving them, Alex can see that Piper’s dress is dripping.

“Your dress is wet,” says Alex. “I mean—”

“Walked too close to the shore,” Piper says. “That’s what you heard earlier.”

“Ah.” And then, “I’m going back to the bar. Get you a drink?”

“One for the road then I’m out of here.”

_Leaving already?_ Alex tries to keep the disappointment out of her face. “All right. Maybe two coffees then,” she says. “I better get going myself.”

When Alex comes back out with two hot cups of coffee in hand, she finds Piper in one of the tables, looking out at the sea, knees both drawn close to her chest. The wind has quieted down, but the night is still cold. Inside, the party continues to rage with a new band playing some angry-sounding tune. _Angry-sounding? Really?_ Alex finds herself laughing slightly at the term.

“Alex?” Piper looks over her shoulder, calling out in the dark.

“Coffee’s here,” Alex replies, quickly approaching and lowering the cups. “Sorry the bar was still packed – they were surprised somebody wanted coffee this early.”

“Early?” Piper asks, brow raised.

“It’s only eleven,” says Alex. “The open bar is until 2 a.m.”

“Two a.m.? Wow,” says Piper, lifting the cup to her lips and blowing lightly. The scent swirls between them; it reminds Alex of early mornings of younger years, when they still made coffee in Alex’s kitchen. _A time before Paris,_ Alex just thinks, watching Piper quietly as she takes her first sip. “Who could drink from _eight to two_?”

“You’ll be surprised,” Alex just says, sipping from her cup in kind.

Piper just hums, nodding. In the dark, Alex can see Piper’s eyes drifting shut as she focuses on her drink. Alex’s ears fill with the sounds of the sea crashing into the shore gently, then blending into the drumbeats and guitar riffs from the ballroom. _All is well,_ she thinks, staring at Piper’s silhouette in the half-light.

Piper finishes her coffee some quiet minutes later, returning the now empty cup on the table. “Thanks for the drink,” she says. She smiles as she stands slowly, her dress still hanging heavy and damp. “I should go.”

“I am, too,” says Alex. The party without Piper is of no interest to Alex anyway. “Walk you to your car?”

“Okay.” There’s a sort of relief in Piper’s tone that Alex is just all too glad for. She lets Piper walk ahead and follows carefully after her, minding her steps as they go past the ballroom, into the lobby and out finally to the parking lot.

“So,” says Piper finally when they get to where her car is. “This is me.”

“I’m over there,” Alex points. As it turns out, she’s in a spot some three cars away. “We could—I don’t know. It’s late, and I’d like to drive around anyway—”

“Alex, if you’re going to suggest a convoy, just say it.”

Alex breathes out, laughing. “I didn’t want to be creepy.”

“You’re not.” Piper smiles at her before unlocking her door with a beep. “Let’s go?”

*

A few years ago, if anybody told her that in a handful of years, she’d be back in this city driving around at midnight tailing Piper’s car just to make sure she’d get home safe, Alex would have laughed at their faces.

_Who’s laughing now?_ Alex asks herself as she slows to a stop right behind Piper, waiting for her to park in front of her building. Alex rolls her window down, honking twice as Piper gets out of her car and approaches.

“Thanks for tonight.”

Alex tries not to look as smitten as she feels. “Yeah,” she says, trying to shrug the feeling off. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Piper nods, lingering. _What are you doing, Piper?_ She’s too close, Alex could smell the sea off her. “Tomorrow,” Piper says, leaning even closer and giving Alex a peck on the cheek – something meant to be completely platonic, Alex is sure, but damn how the skin _burns_. They pull back at the same time, similarly stunned. Alex tries not to curse out loud for fear of breaking the moment.

“Yeah,” Alex says instead, dazed. “Have a good night.”

Piper says nothing as Alex rolls her window back up and drives away, the space Piper’s lips touched still unbelievably warm. Alex grips the wheel tighter, trying to focus on the road ahead despite the heavy thumping in her chest.

_She fucking kissed me._

_What the fuck was that for?_

 


	8. oceans to you

Piper is heaving when she gets to her flat.

 _What the fuck, Piper? What the actual fuck._ She tosses her bag over to the sofa before tugging her still-damp skirt off, thankful to be finally able to shed the weight and scent of the sea. It had been a stupid decision, to stalk after Alex like that, then stumble into the ocean carelessly. _True to form, though,_ she tells herself, facing the bathroom mirror as she removes her makeup.

The night has been a stellar display of excellent decision-making, after all.

 _I kissed her,_ Piper thinks, dabbing at her lips to remove her lipstick. She rubs harder at the realization, but she can’t seem to get the feel of Alex’s skin off her. _What was I thinking?_

Better yet – what was she _not_ thinking? They’ve come so far in this sort of _peaceable_ arrangement. Surely it has its occasionally awkward moments, but already they have been few and far between.

 _And now, this. Now we’re back to square one._ Piper bites down on her lip hard in frustration, rummaging blindly into her bag for her phone. _This is Polly’s fault._

“This is your fault,” she says as soon as Polly picks up.

Polly breathes in at the other end of the line. “Look, Pipes, I know I said I was coming, and I was, really—”

“I stumbled into the ocean.”

Polly pauses, confused. “Excuse me?”

Piper groans, cradling her face in her hand. “Christ,” she sighs. “I wish I could chalk it all up to the margaritas.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you were _drunk_ and you fell into the ocean?” Piper could tell how Polly’s struggling to keep the laugh out of her question.

“I wasn’t even _that_ drunk,” Piper counters. “Alex was there.”

“Okay,” says Polly. “So is this like – a _literal_ ocean, or are you speaking in metaphors here about Alex? Or are you just being absolutely drunk right now?”

 _I don’t even know anymore._ “All of the above,” she says. “It was fine until – well, until it wasn’t. Goddamn it. I was okay up until I ran into her in the restroom.”

“Oh Piper,” Polly says. “You always get cornered in the strangest of places.”

“And I wasn’t even _actively_ seeking her out, I just – I just saw her walk out to the beach, you know? I was like on auto-pilot.”

“Your stalker skills do takeover when you’re on auto-pilot, Pipes.”

Piper cringes. “I do that?”

“Mhmm. Pretty much par for the course. I mean, where Alex is concerned.”

“ _Polly._ ”

“I’m just saying.”

“You should have been there. Had you been there—”

“Had I been there, you would have done it anyway.”

“You would have let me fall into the ocean?”

Polly pauses. “Are we literally or metaphorically speaking?”

Piper lets out a frustrated growl. She knows Polly is not being difficult on purpose, but she _could_ be a handful at times. “It _cannot_ be Alex anymore. You know this.”

“But still…?”

Piper pauses before sighing. “I still let her see me home tonight.”

“And?”

Piper winces at the accusation in Polly’s tone, biting down at her lip harder. “And I kissed her,” Piper adds in a small voice, just as Polly groans at the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, it’s just – I’m exhausted. And it was _very brief--_ ”

“You’re exhausted, so you _kissed_ her? And what even is a _very brief kiss?_ ” Polly asks, exasperated. “How exactly am I supposed to wrap my head around that explanation?” Put this way, Piper now sees how even more horrible everything just _is,_ and all of it makes her want to hurl. Sort of. “Well?”

“Yeah?” Piper finds herself walking to the fridge and getting herself a glass of water. “This is going to be messy, isn’t it?” Polly stays quiet as Piper finishes drinking. “Tell me it isn’t as bad as I think it is.”

“It isn’t as bad as you think,” says Polly, tone flat. Piper rolls her eyes, getting the message. “Well, you could always just pretend none of it happened.”

“Polly.”

“I mean, that _is_ technically already what you’re doing, right?”

 _Jesus. What time is it, and why is Polly still this sharp?_ Piper sighs. Trust Polly to dish out some requisite tough love regardless of the hour. “Fine.” And then, “I thought you were Team Alex Puts This Nice Glow on You or something?”

“I’m Team Piper Figures It Out Eventually,” Polly says with a yawn. “Sleep it off, Pipes. Call me in the morning when you’re sober.”

*

Piper does not sleep. With her nerves on fire like this, how could she? Instead, she paces across the room to look out her window – a nightly habit mostly; she likes staring at the empty quiet street during ungodly hours.

Only now it isn’t so empty. Piper rubs at her eyes and takes a harder look.

From the window, Piper sees Alex look up, phone in her ear, eyes searching her side of the building for her room. Alex is leaning against her car, now parked on the curb.  

Right on cue, Piper’s phone starts ringing.

“Hello?”

“What are you still doing there?” asks Piper, smiling at the smirk in Alex’s voice. “I thought you were driving home.”

Alex sighs, laughing lightly as she runs her other hand into her hair. “It’s complicated,” she just says.

Sighing in kind, Piper opens her window wider, sticking her head out just enough for Alex to see her. It takes Alex a couple of moments before locating her finally. “Tell me about it,” says Piper, resting her arms on the window sill.

“I would, but it could take all night.”

“You’re an editor, Alex. You chop things up for a living. I’m sure you could manage a _blurb_ ,” she teases.

“Ah,” Alex says, shifting her weight to her other leg and leaning more comfortably against the hood of her car. “Let’s see – well: You kissed me.”

Piper’s lips tingle upon hearing the word _kiss_ in Alex’s trademark rasp. _Been a while._ “I was trying to be polite,” Piper says. _That sounded more believable in my head._

“I told myself that, too,” Alex says. “Drove around the block aimlessly a couple of times, trying to get over your _politeness._ ”

“Sorry,” Piper offers. “I didn’t – I wasn’t _thinking,_ and it was—”

“Instinct?”

“I was going to say _habit,_ ” says Piper. “In any case, I shouldn’t have done that, and I wish to apologize—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Alex interrupts quickly. “I mean.” She pauses, seemingly thrown by her own eagerness. The silence crackles in Piper’s ear as wind blows past Alex right down on the street. “Don’t say sorry. I’m overanalyzing. It’s not your fault.”

 _I’m overanalyzing._ Piper tries to ignore the butterflies slowly coming to life in her gut. _Alex overanalyzing – and this is all me?_ Piper blinks, clearing her throat. “I’m still sorry you’re still out and about at this hour. _That_ much I could claim as my fault, right?” she says.

Alex laughs – an all too welcome sound. Piper finds herself pressing her phone closer to her ear. “Completely sobered up now, too,” says Alex. “ _That_ part I want you to totally take responsibility for.”

“There’s beer in my fridge,” Piper says – the words tumble out even before she could stop herself. _Oh fuck,_ she thinks, before: _Oh, fuck it._ From the curb, Alex is looking up at her with a certain hope that she seems unwilling to give away all at once.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex says, tone careful.

Piper pauses, considering her response. “It means,” she begins, pulling back from the window. “There’s more than enough for two.”

*

Piper answers the door with two beers on hand and unsteady knees – seeing Alex at her doorstep again at this hour _after all this time_ makes for the strangest sight.

“Hi,” Alex greets softly, raising a hand in a small wave. “Is this a bad time?”

Piper laughs. _This charming idiot._ She opens the door wider, nodding her head and beckoning for Alex to come inside. “Hey,” she says, handing Alex one of the beers immediately. _Something to do with my hands._ “Still your brand?”

Alex takes a quick swig, smiling. “You remember.”

 _There are things that are not so easy to forget._ “It’s a good brand,” Piper says instead. She walks back into the living room, thinking, _This is Alex’s first time here._ She tries _not_ to remember their old rooms and apartments; tries not to remember the host of memories that come with them.

“Nice apartment,” Alex says, settling on the far end of the couch. “Long lease?”

“Sort of,” says Piper. “I got it right after Paris.” The word hangs heavy for a moment and Piper shakes her head, regretting having mentioned it. “Sorry. I always say that about this place.”

Alex shrugs, sipping from her beer slowly. “You’re always apologizing around me,” she says. “What’s up with that?”

“Sorry,” Piper says automatically, before laughing at her slip. “I can’t seem to stop.”

Alex laughs lightly along. “Come on,” she says, sinking more comfortably into Piper’s couch. “It’s still me. I mean, five years older, but it’s not so bad, right?” Piper tries not to stare at her and think about how she _fits_ just right in. _Like before,_ she thinks. Piper remembers the beer in her hand and starts drinking.

“You look well,” Piper finds herself saying. _Proceed to dig deeper holes, Piper,_ she thinks, biting down on her tongue. Alex slips her shoes off and tucks her legs under her – a move so comfortable and _familiar_ that Piper has to look away and breathe in deeply.

“Thanks,” Alex says. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” When Piper laughs at that, Alex quickly adds: “Shit. That sounded so horrible.”

“I started it,” Piper says. “Is this supposed to feel weirder?”

“There are no rules for this, Pipes,” says Alex, pausing before taking another swig, looking at Piper all that while. “Guess we’ll just have to make them up as we go along.”

 _As we go along,_ Piper repeats in her head. _She means to keep going._ “I guess,” she just says dumbly, drinking up in kind. “So. What’s rule number 1?”

Alex shrugs, putting her empty bottle on the table. “Rule number 1 is we drop Paris. For the meantime.”

“For the meantime?”

“We seem to be always stuck,” says Alex. “Tell me about _after_ Paris.”

“ _After_ Paris?” asks Piper, confused. _What else was there after?_ The years between have been some muted blur – whatever did she do in Brussels? Sure there was writing involved, but had any of it been notable and _special_?

 _I was just passing the time,_ she almost says. _Shedding lives and trying to find my way back._

“Tell me about Brussels,” Alex is saying. “And everything else after that.”

Piper tries to laugh, but the sound that comes out is soft and weak. “They were boring years,” she says.

Alex just sits back and looks at her. “You’re a writer, Pipes,” she says. “Tell me a story.”

*

By the time Piper remembers the clock, it’s already well past four and her living room table is littered with empty bottles. She and Alex are on the couch, laughing over something that happened in a children’s event she organized a couple of years back, and Piper is trying her best to catch her breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Alex says, rubbing at her eyes and yawning. “Remind me never to get into organizing for children. Like ever.”

“To be fair, it was just _that_ one time,” says Piper. “But the stench was really horrible.”

Alex scrunches up her face in disgust. “I am _never_ having kids.”

“My respect for mothers everywhere went up by five notches,” Piper says.  “I don’t think I can do all _that_.”

Alex laughs. “So, that’s it? That’s the highlight?” she asks smugly, idly touching Piper’s hand where it meets hers on the back of the couch. Piper holds her breath, trying not to mind that it feels like Alex is burning a hole right through it.

“I warned you they were boring,” Piper says. “I thought it would be that Great Europe romp or whatever – then I realized, that was my _life_.”

“Did you not enjoy Europe _at all_?”

“I wouldn’t say I _didn’t_ ,” says Piper. “I just thought… I’d fall for it harder, you know? Instead of just… yeah,” she trails off, eyes falling on Alex’s hand, now resting on hers lightly. “Instead of just _breezing_ right through it.”

“Well,” Alex begins, stroking tentatively. “You proceeded the best way you knew.”

“I’m not so sure,” says Piper. “Sometimes I have regrets.”

“Regrets?”

Piper inhales deeply before speaking. “Like I could have, I don’t know, paid better attention. Been more _present._ ” She pauses as she lets the heady rush pass through her. _One too many beers?_ she asks herself. “After Paris, I… got somewhat lost.”

“If it’s any consolation,” says Alex, after taking a quiet moment herself to absorb what Piper is saying. “Your resume doesn’t read as _lost_ to me – writing in Brussels, a string of events and marketing in Oslo and Amsterdam and Copenhagen -- all in five years? Not lost at all – busy, yes. Lost? I find that difficult to find here.”

“Thanks,” Piper smiles weakly. By now Alex’s hand is already a warm, comforting weight, and Piper settles into it more easily. _It still fits,_ she thinks, eyes feeling heavy. When she looks at the clock, it’s almost five. “You’re right,” Piper says, yawning. “We did take all night.”

Alex yawns in kind, stretching. “ _Shit,_ ” she says, adjusting her glasses. “What time is it?”

“Five,” says Piper. “Not that I’m throwing you out, but we do have work in… _four_ hours?”

“I hate mid-week events,” Alex says, pushing herself off the couch. “Sorry I kept you.”

Piper rises in kind, walking after Alex, who’s now headed for the door. “No, it was nice,” she says. “I mean, catching up. It was nice.” _Jesus, Piper, can you keep it together for three more minutes?_ “Thanks for dropping by.”

“Thanks for the beer,” Alex says, reaching out to hold Piper’s wrist lightly, hand half-open like she’s seeking permission. Piper doesn’t say anything – her mind’s a blur as it is. _It’s the hour,_ she thinks. _It’s all those drinks._ “So, um. We’re okay here?”

Piper nods. “We’re more than okay.”

“Good.” Alex smiles one more time before leaning in closer – her turn to leave Piper with a kiss on the cheek. “I should go.”

Piper only half-hears her words as her head fills with one thought: _How it burns, how it burns, how it burns._

Alex opens the door and looks back at her, smirking. “Pipes?”

_How everything just burns._

Blinking, Piper just shakes her head. “You should go,” she repeats dumbly instead.

 


	9. and love like fools

Here’s how the rest of it goes: Alex and Piper go to the movies. They don’t do lunch nor dinner – just movies, in cinemas away from the office, on weekends.

_Just little breathers in between weeks of planning for the next show_ , Alex likes telling herself.

They never go together – Alex drives over, and Piper does, too. They don’t discuss it, but to Alex it feels like they’ve reached some silent agreement never to outwardly be too friendly with other people watching – she isn’t sure what it’s all about entirely, so she just goes along, following Piper’s cue. _If this is how Piper wants to handle this,_ she just thinks.

_Maybe on weekends we could pretend it’s all new._

The first time around, Alex catches Piper at the ticket booth, buying for two. “Excuse me, miss,” she greets, pretending to introduce herself. “Are you free for a movie this afternoon?”

Oh, how Piper just laughs.  

*

When it’s Alex’s turn to choose, it’s always some animated thing. “These things look better huge,” she tells Piper, who has her own misgivings about watching a movie “technically for children.” “Besides, are you saying these films are _beneath_ you?”

Piper just sticks her tongue out at her. “For someone who _dislikes_ children, you prefer to be surrounded by a lot of them in the dark.”

“Hey, I got you to protect me.” That earns Alex a solid swat on the arm. “Also, it’s better than those depressing documentaries you like so much.”

“The guys at Entertainment said it was _good_.”

“The guys at Entertainment obviously have very different standards.”

And so the banter goes. Piper buys the drinks while Alex buys the popcorn. _It’s not a date,_ Alex insists, but as the weeks wear on the excuse feels thinner and thinner.

_It’s not a date, but it’s something, isn’t it?_

*

Sometimes, Piper asks her back into her flat. Alex doesn’t know what algorithm decides it, but the pattern is at best erratic. So Alex just does her best to brace herself for  whatever post-movie activity Piper has in mind, and just lets herself be carried along -- flat or no flat, coffee or no coffee.

_Please let there be coffee,_ Alex finds herself praying as soon as the lights go back.

“Hey Al,” Piper says, touching her wrist idly as the credits roll. “You going somewhere else tonight?”

Alex breathes in, still startled at the contact _and_ the endearment. They’ve been building up to this slowly, like toddlers learning how to walk. “Not really,” she says as Piper pulls away. “Why?”

“Coffee at my flat?” In the dark, Piper just throws it out like it’s the most casual thing; like she doesn’t know she turns Alex’s world around _every time._

“Sure.” _Anything for you in a heartbeat._ And then, _Shit. Did I just think that?_ Alex isn’t even safe from _herself_ in her own head.

And so that is how she finds herself en route to Piper’s apartment all too often on weekends -- in itself a strange thing. Alex just doesn’t do this. _She comes to you,_ she’s always told herself. _They all do._

_The fuck happened to that, Vause?_

She keeps that question on repeat throughout the drive to Piper’s, half-expecting the answer to fall on her lap in the quiet of her car.

The thing about Piper’s apartment is that it feels so _different –_ so light. To Alex, it feels like it does not expect to be filled to the brim. That it does not mind being a temporary thing. Alex wonders if that vibe’s because of _when_ Piper got it – post-Paris, wasn’t that what she said? It’s like the space knows of what heartbreak it comes from.

“You all right?” Piper asks, holding the door open for her. “You’ve been quiet.”

Alex shrugs, shaking her head. “Just something I remembered.”

“And that is?”

_Just old ghosts,_ Alex almost says. “Nothing. It’s work-related.”

“It’s the _weekend,_ Al,” Piper says gently, opening her cupboard and taking out two mugs. “We have the rest of the week to worry.”

“I know.”

Piper smiles as she lowers the two mugs on the kitchen counter. “So,” she breathes in. “What can I get you?”

Alex laughs. _So this is us now,_ she just thinks, staring at Piper’s hands braced against the counter. _Everything’s make believe._ “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she just says, going by the script.

It takes a couple of minutes before Piper finishes brewing her coffee. Alex spends the wait sitting quietly in Piper’s living room, trying to read. The sofa is littered with back issues of magazines and recipe cut-outs.

“Seriously, Pipes?” Alex asks, a half-laugh at the back of her throat.

“What?” Piper smiles, motioning for Alex to come over and pushing a cup of fresh coffee toward her. “Who knows, maybe I’d learn to make cookies to go with the coffee.”

“Ooh,” Alex says, sipping from her cup slowly. “We have a _challenge._ ”

“I am nothing if not stubborn,” Piper just says, lifting her cup in kind. “Just you wait.”

“Mhmm.”

They drink in silence for a while; at first, Alex is uneasy with it, but only until she realizes this is how Piper wants to _communicate_ – just the two of them sitting across each other on a lazy night, trying to make sense of the quiet. _No words, no weapons._ Put that way, it just makes more sense.

“I like this,” Piper says suddenly, cup still in front of her lips. “Who knew it could be this easy?”

“It could be whatever we want it to be,” Alex says. _Harmless hangouts, weekend stay-ins – anything._ “You’re right. Who knew?”

“Are we, like, friends now?” Piper asks. Alex carefully swallows her coffee, trying not to choke on it. “This _is_ what friends do, right?”

_Oh Pipes,_ Alex almost says. “As I’ve said – call it anything,” she finds herself saying instead. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Right.”

“I mean, if you want to call it friends—”

“Do we have to tell people?”

Now Alex has to laugh. “We don’t exactly have to tell people we’re _friends_ with some people, Piper.”

“But this is _us,_ Al.” _There she goes again – when did she start calling me by_ that _name again, anyway?_ “Your friends will talk.”

“Ah,” Alex says. “So _this_ is what it’s all about.”

“I’m just saying. I don’t want to walk into any of your bets or anything--”

_Whoa._ “Whoa,” Alex says, putting her mug back on the table, slightly startled. “Wait a minute here.”

“Hey, it’s how you roll, that’s fine,” says Piper. “It doesn’t matter to me. I just – I don’t want to ruin anybody’s fun.”

“You are _not_ ruining anybody’s fun. What are you even talking about?”

Piper laughs weakly, shaking her head. “So you _do_ have a bet on-going.”

_Shit._ If Alex were to be completely honest, she’s been kind of preoccupied just keeping this thing with Piper _going_ that she isn’t even actively thinking about the bet anymore. “If it’s any consolation, it’s _not_ about fucking the most number of girls.” It’s out before Alex can stop herself, so she just bites down on her tongue, after.  

“And _this_ is supposed to be a good thing?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” says Piper, draining her mug in one long swig. “I’m glad you told me. That’s all.”

“That there’s a bet that does _not_ involve fucking the most number of girls?” Alex narrows her eyes at her, trying to figure out that statement.

“Yeah, absolutely,” says Piper. “It’s what friends do, right? Tell each other things?”

_Right. Of course._ It’s Alex’s turn to finish her coffee. “Exactly,” Alex says, and Piper just smiles.

*

At the door much later, as Alex is saying goodbye, she pauses to ask a question that has been bugging her all night. “You don’t think we’re monsters, do you?”

Piper blinks. “What?”

“I mean, with the bet. Doesn’t that make us horrible people?”

“We’re different people with different people,” Piper says. “I like you when you’re being Alex around me.”

Alex smiles, leaning against the door. “And I like you when you’re being Piper around me,” she says, reaching out to tuck Piper’s hair behind her ear. She notes the intake of breath there; the slow crawl of a blush starting from the base of Piper’s neck. _Let’s get out of here, Vause,_ she tells herself. _Before we do something stupid._

“Al.”

“Hm?” Alex knows it’s probably time to pull her hand back, but she doesn’t; instead, it stays on Piper’s shoulder and rubs at it gently, like it has a mind of its own.

Piper’s eyes flutter shut as she leans into the touch. “If you’re going to keep doing that, you might as well stay the night.”

Now _,_ Alex _actually_ pulls away slowly. _Bluff’s been called,_ she just thinks. _Time to pack it in._ “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Piper sighs, opening her eyes. “I know,” she says, shaking her head like she’s coming to her senses. “What are we even doing here, Alex?”

“Being _friends_ ,” Alex says with a grin. “Granted it does look like we’re being horrible at it.”

“Yeah.” Piper pushes at her weakly, smiling in kind. “We should keep working on that.”

“Yeah, we should.” Alex finds herself leaning closer. _Just one,_ she keeps telling herself, as the voices in her head start screaming _No._ Piper just stares at her, like she _knows_ where this is going, but she’s just as interested to find out how farther it could, for tonight.

_We’re horrible at this,_ Alex just thinks, staring at Piper’s lips. _Absolutely fucking horrible._

The most surprising thing about it: Piper breaks first, bridging the gap and pulling Alex in for the kiss, reducing Alex’s world to the singular sensation of Piper’s warm mouth. 

_Oh,_ Alex goes in her head. _How have I gone without this for so long?_ Alex threads her fingers into Piper’s hair and pulls her closer in kind, marveling at how hot Piper feels _everywhere else_ , pressed up against Alex like this. Her other hand finds the back pocket of Piper’s jeans just as Piper slips her tongue into Alex’s mouth.

_Jesus Christ._  Alex’s head is nothing but a maddening swirl filled with the taste of her. _We are horrible friends, and we’re now making out against the door._ When Piper’s hand starts skimming underneath Alex’s shirt, she pulls away and comes up for air.

“Wait.”

Piper’s looking at her with _those_ glazed over eyes again, and Alex feels the familiar heat start pooling in her guts. “Fuck,” she says, heaving. “If _this_ is the bet talking, I am _never_ speaking to you again.”

_Oh, you don’t think I’d pay a hundred grand for this?_ Alex breathes in, trying to steady herself. She’s shaking against the door and her lungs feel like bursting. “No, god – of course not,” says Alex, licking at her lips. “This is – we really are horrible at being friends, aren’t we?”

Piper chuckles softly, loosening her grip. “I’m sorry, it’s just—this is _us,_ Al. It’s… _inevitable._ ”

_There’s that word again,_ Alex thinks, leaning in to kiss Piper, this time soft and slow. “I don’t want to fuck this up,” she just says. “I’ve gone too far to fuck this up.”

“What does that even mean?” Piper asks in between kisses. “Because _Jesus,_ Alex, you’ve got to stop saying _fuck_ right now, it’s not helping.”

Despite the intense aching in her belly, Alex finds it in herself to laugh, and when she feels Piper smiling against her lips in kind, her knees start buckling. “Helping what?” Alex says, still holding Piper close, effectively pinning herself against the door as Piper leans against her heavily, settling between Alex’s parted legs.

_Fuck._ Alex gasps as Piper starts moving, and Alex just helplessly throws her head back against the door with a soft thud. “You know _what_ ,” Piper says, nipping at Alex’s neck. Behind her, the door starts creaking in time with Piper’s rhythm.

_We are fucking against the door,_ Alex thinks, her mind already heavy with want. “Pipes,” she says weakly, hands settling around Piper’s hips. “Are you sure about this?”

Piper pauses for a tense moment before licking at Alex’s neck. “No,” she whispers hotly against the skin. Alex just keeps shivering as Piper keeps moving – slow, minute movements that set her nerves on fire. “But I _sure_ can’t seem to stop.”

_Oh, fuck all of it then._ Alex tightens her grip at Piper’s hip and nudges her forward, pushing against the door and fighting back with her lips and teeth and tongue. They fumble blindly through the living room and end up on the couch.

“Well then,” Alex just says, straddling Piper’s lap, her hands braced against the back of the couch. Piper looks up at her with her lips parted, a hand resting at the button of Alex’s jeans, like she’s waiting for a _signal_. Alex swallows thickly. “ _Don’t_ stop.”


	10. winning

Piper is _exhausted,_ truth be told, but her body is so alive it feels like it is _humming --_ vibrating right under the sheets. Right across the bed is Alex, who’s looking right back at her with her bright eyes wide.

“ _Fuck_ ,” says Alex, her voice raspy as she laughs. When Piper reaches out to her she can feel the sweat still warm on Alex’s bare skin. “I missed you, Pipes.”

Piper licks at her lips, marveling at the lingering taste. “I missed you, too.”

Alex shifts, lifting the sheets so she could inch closer underneath. “Come here.”  

Scooting closer, Piper nestles herself right into Alex’s side, throwing a leg over hers casually. _It still fits,_ she just thinks, relishing the feel of skin against skin. _Why did I ever doubt this?_

“Horrible, wasn’t that?” Alex says in the dark, giggling uncontrollably after.

“Very,” Piper says, pulling her closer. When Alex kisses her, she tastes like the two of them, and Piper feels the buzzing in her head grow louder, the heat in her belly churning again.  

“Guess we’d just have to keep working on that,” says Alex.

Outside, it is still dark, and a cool breeze blows past Piper’s open bedroom window to ruffle the curtains. When she shudders, she can’t tell if it’s the wind or Alex’s touch. “Well then,” Piper says, tracing Alex’s bottom lip with her thumb. “Good thing we got time.”

*

By Sunday mid-morning, Piper finds the two of them still in bed, leafing through old magazines. “What about Ingrid?”

Alex pauses, mid-flip, before shrugging. “What do you mean, _what about Ingrid?_ ” she asks back in a measured tone.

 _Tread carefully,_ Piper reminds herself. “Nothing, I just – I never really figured out what was going on between the two of you.”

Closing the magazine in her hand, Alex turns to her, adjusting her glasses. “What did you think?” she asks, a half-smile on her lips.

Piper hesitates before saying, “You were together when I was gone. Weren’t you?”

Alex breathes in, like she’s bracing herself for a long conversation. _Here we go._ Alex shifts on the bed to turn toward Piper, hand resting lightly on Piper’s thigh. “Not exactly.”

“Not an outright no.”

“Not an outright yes, either,” Alex says. “It was complicated.”

“True to form,” says Piper, smiling. “That doesn’t answer the question, though. What about her?”

Alex tightens her grip on Piper’s thigh. “Listen,” she begins, huddling closer. “Ingrid doesn’t date. That’s the official line.”

“And the unofficial line?”

Alex winces slightly before lowering her lips on Piper’s collarbone, as if in apology. “We were just being human,” she says. “It was what it was.”

 _Was._ Piper focuses on the word, and the warmth of Alex’s hand, still rubbing circles on her leg. “And us? Are we just being human right now, too?”

Alex’s lips lift from her collarbone, tracing a tender route up the side of Piper’s neck. “This kind of feels extraterrestrial to me, to be completely honest,” she says, and Piper feels Alex smiling against her skin.

 _This charming fucker._ Piper lets out a little laugh. “Come on, Al,” she sighs. “Seriously. We have a meeting with her _tomorrow._ ”

“I know,” Alex says, but she keeps going anyhow, tiny nibbles along Piper’s jaw. “And every other day after that, for the next couple of weeks.”

“Not exactly the most comforting thought right now,” says Piper, drawing a sharp inhale when Alex’s hand finds its way under her shirt, resting warmly now on her stomach.

“Hm? This is not comforting enough for you?” Alex turns her hand around to go lower, slipping inside the waistband of Piper’s shorts. _God damn._ Piper screws her eyes shut, hips lifting of their own accord. “When _exactly_ did you have time to put clothes on, anyway?”

Piper grins lazily. “When you were sleeping,” she says, gasping as Alex nips at her shoulder. “The breeze got cold.”

“Ah. Sorry,” says Alex. By now, she’s finished tugging it all off, and Piper sits up and pulls her shirt off above her head, straddling Alex and enjoying the thirst on her face at the movement. “Still cold?”

“Could use a hand,” Piper says, smiling as Alex pushes up for a kiss.

 _Fuck now, talk later,_ Piper just thinks, sinking into her.

*

“Jesus, we’re never getting out of bed, are we?”

Alex just grins at her. “Just like old times, eh?” she says, groaning as she stretches out on Piper’s bed. “Though this body sure has seen better days.”

“You always say that,” says Piper, tracing Alex’s side, feeling her ribs. “This thing is _timeless._ ”

“This thing is also _all fucked out_ ,” Alex says, laughing out her exhaustion. “Christ _,_ I never thought I’d actually say _that_.”

“I never thought I’d fuck this way again,” says Piper, laughing along. And then, more quietly: “I never thought it’d be you again.”

The look on Alex’s face softens. “Hey,” she whispers. “Regrets?”

 _Regret._ Piper is not exactly fond of that word, but that’s not the only reason she’s wary about using it. “No, that’s not what I meant,” she says, moving closer. “Or in a way, maybe. Regret that I took so long being so stubborn about all of it. What a waste of time.”

“You needed to figure it out,” Alex says. “That’s never a waste of time.”

“You ever step back to do that? Figure it all out?”

Alex breathes in deeply, nodding. “Post-Paris was a thing for me too, just so you know,” she says.

 _Post-Paris._ The term still breaks her heart, a little; remembering the Piper of _that_ time – so much wreckage in such a small frame. Some nights Piper still finds herself wanting to hug _that_ Piper. _All said and done now._ “I’ve always wondered—I never really got an explanation, you know? All these years, I just kept telling myself I didn’t deserve one, anyway.”

“Paris made me angry,” Alex says, and Piper watches a flicker of a shadow ghost across her face at the word _angry_. “I didn’t like myself -- who I think I was becoming. Didn’t like the feeling of needing anyone. Needing someone who couldn’t be there all the time.”

“I was there,” Piper says softly.

Alex scratches at the underside of Piper’s wrist with her thumb. “It felt like you wanted to break away. Like I was weighing you down.”  

Piper looks away, trying not to flinch. “I’m not that girl anymore,” she says. _I have come so far. I’m not breaking away now._

“I thought leaving Paris would make me like myself again,” Alex continues, hands still around Piper’s wrist loosely.

“And did it?”

“A bit,” Alex says, shrugging. “I mean. Leaving Paris meant I could go back to this job.”

“And Ingrid.”

Alex sighs, slipping her arm under Piper’s shoulder and pulling her into a hug. “As I’ve said, it’s complicated.”

Piper nuzzles into her and breathes her in; Alex smells of midday suns and sweat-stained sheets, and _god_ what took them so long to get here, again? “And as I’ve said, I’m not that girl anymore.”

“I think I like this Piper,” Alex says, planting a kiss on Piper’s forehead and rubbing at her shoulder. “I think I like all the girls you were and all the girls you’ll ever be. Does that make sense?”

Piper smiles into Alex’s chest before nipping at it playfully. “You really _are_ all fucked out, aren’t you?” she teases.

“Yeah,” says Alex, her laugh reverberating in her chest. Piper pushes her ears closer against it, relishing the sound. “I suppose I really am.”

*

When Monday rolls around, Piper sends a semi-panicked text to Alex: “We didn’t exactly agree on our _battle plan_.” She’s texting as she’s walking from parking to elevator, unaware that she’s bumping into people on the way in. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Hello, Piper. You look rested.”

Piper feels her stomach plummet at the voice. “Morning, Ingrid,” she says, finally getting her bearings. “How was your weekend?”

“Watched a movie. Didn’t like it,” she says, and Piper holds her breath, her stomach tightening into knots. _Fucking hell, Chapman. Pull yourself together._ “I should know better than trust Entertainment recs.”

“One of those documentaries, huh,” says Piper, eyes glued to the floor numbers.

“Depressing, kind of. I don’t even think company would make them tolerable.” Ingrid laughs a little, though it sounds more sad than actually happy. Piper feels a twitch in her chest. _This is me. My fault._ “Let this be a lesson.”

“Right,” Piper says, just as the elevator doors open. Ingrid steps out first and Piper follows behind her, hand in her pocket, waiting for her phone to ring. “Would you mind going ahead? I just have to get something for the meeting.”

“No problem,” says Ingrid, smiling at her. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Piper heads for her desk as Ingrid disappears from sight, and right on cue, her phone starts ringing. “Alex,” she whispers. “Ingrid’s early.”

“I saw,” says Alex. “I hung back at the elevators.”

Piper laughs lightly, pinning her phone between ear and shoulder. “You fucker,” she says fondly. “You should have warned me.”

“Well, I was going to call, but you seemed so _focused_ —”

“Shut up,” Piper says, still laughing. _How is this so easy?_ “I was texting you.”

“So I’ve seen,” says Alex. “What are we having for breakfast?”

“In my text, I asked a _question_ —”

“Let’s just wing it, okay?” says Alex. “ _Relax._ Breakfast?”

Piper rolls her eyes. _Classic Alex, actually._ “Fine. Your ex-girlfriend, your strategy.”

“She is _not_ my ex-girlfriend—” Then, from the background: _Who is not your ex-girlfriend, Alex?_ Piper claps her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out louder. On her end, Alex ends their call with a curt, “See you later,” before hanging up.

 _Well. That would be an interesting conversation to have,_ Piper thinks, retrieving her notes before heading out. Walking past Alex’s wing, she can already overhear loud heckling and laughter. _Probably Nicky, after all._ Piper breathes in as she enters the meeting room, taking the seat farthest from the door.

As expected, Alex and Nicky barge in with a loud round of laughter.

“What ex-girlfriend?” Alex says, pushing Nicky past the door. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Alex, I _heard_ you,” Nicky fires back, and there’s a bit more shoving before they notice that Piper’s even in the room. Nicky freezes first, hands still gripping Alex’s shirt as she flashes Piper a grin. “Hey there, Chapman.”

Piper smiles, waving her hand. “Hey.”

Alex goes, “Hi Piper,” and Piper bites the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from growing too wide. Alex gives Nicky one last shove that finally releases her from Nicky’s grip. “Breakfast yet?”

“I was hoping this meeting had coffee,” says Piper, arching her brow just so. _You really want to do this like this?_

“Tell you what,” Nicky says, pulling out her notebook. “Let me take down your coffee orders and maybe we could ask Ingrid?”

“Ask Ingrid what?”

Piper shifts her eyes back to the door and in comes Ingrid, her laptop hugged close to her chest. Piper holds her breath as Ingrid catches Alex’s eye for a tense couple of seconds before breaking into a smile herself.

“Piper was looking for coffee,” Nicky says, breaking the silence. “We were going to ask you if you wanted some.”

“Oh,” says Ingrid, blinking. She shifts her eyes from Alex to Piper to Nicky. “Let’s ask someone to get some for us.”

“No, I’d get it – I won’t take long. Should have gotten some along the way, my fault,” Piper says, moving for the door. On the way over, she catches Alex’s eye, the look on her face half-confused, half- _Don’t fucking leave me._

When Piper goes ahead and reaches for the door knob, Alex coughs and says, “I’m going with Piper.” Then, off the look on Nicky’s face: “My coffee order is complicated.”

Ingrid squints her eyes at the both of them before nodding. “Fine.” And then, “The usual, Al?”

 _The usual._ Piper feels like she’d just been decked in the chest, and she tries not to cough out loud herself, the careless familiarity of it putting a twinge in her gut.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “I’ll call Boo and Bill to ask if they want anything.” And with that, she ushers Piper out the door with a hand on her elbow.

The walk to the coffee shop on the corner of their street is a quiet one.

“You all right?” Alex asks at the counter, right after they finish paying for the orders.

Piper shrugs. “Really? The _usual_?”

Alex sighs, pocketing her wallet. “Piper, please. It’s nothing special.”

And the thing is, Piper _knows this_ – she’s well aware she’s overreacting, but it’s not like she can help it. “She called you _Al_ ,” she adds in a small voice. “Did she always—”

“ _Pipes,_ ” Alex says, putting a hand on the small of her back. They’re standing at the claim station, waiting for the coffee. “She’s not you. That’s all you need to know.”

“And does _she_ know?” Piper asks softly. She looks up at Alex, watching as she clenches her jaw. She resists the urge to touch it. “Okay. Fine. Only a weekend in, and I’m turning into girlfriend from hell—”

“What did you say?”

Piper blinks. “What?”

Alex looks at her, smiling. “What did you just _say_?”

“Only a weekend in, and already I’m—oh my god.” Piper covers her mouth with her hands. _What the fuck did I just say?_ “Fuck. Slip of the tongue, I’m so sorry, there’s no—I mean, if you don’t? Want to, I mean. _Slow_ , right? _Jesus Christ._ ”

“You just called yourself my _girlfriend,_ ” Alex says, before she starts giggling uncontrollably. “I mean. _Wow._ ” The next time Piper looks at her, Alex already has her eyes on the floor. _Is she actually blushing?_

Piper has to laugh herself, swatting Alex’s arm. “You adorable _dork_ ,” she just says. “This is why I’m in love with you.”

Alex is still grinning as she claims their coffees from the counter. “I _heart_ you,” she tells Piper.

“What is that?” Piper teases. “Is that, like, I love you for _pussies_?”

“Shut up,” Alex says, grinning wider. “Let’s go.”

*

Two meetings and five pages later, Alex meets Piper at the elevators, phone in one hand and car keys in the other.

“So,” Alex begins, walking toward Piper slowly. “Dinner?”

“I’m _exhausted_ ,” Piper says, smiling wanly. “Raincheck?”

Alex pouts, looking away. “All right.” And then, after a moment’s silence: “Is that code for _Come make me dinner at my flat, Alex_?”

“Kind of,” Piper says, laughing softly. She looks at Alex, thinking: _Jesus, I could get used to this._ “So. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

 _I heart this agreeable Alex a lot. I think I’ll keep her._ Piper slips her hand into Alex’s, marveling at how the gesture feels so _easy_. “So. Are we doing a supermarket run first, or are we ordering in?”

“Depends. What would you want?”

“You better not let me get used to having my way all the time,” says Piper.

Alex narrows her eyes at her. “But I like it when you have your way,” she teases, and Piper feels her ears grow hot. “No, seriously. What do you want?”

“I’m too _fried_ to think, honestly. Can we just talk about it in the car?”

“You’re letting me drive? I think we’re moving too fast, miss.”

That earns her another swat on the arm. “ _Al._ ” It lands so softly that it doesn’t even make a sound. “Jesus, I’m _this_ hungry, can’t you see?”

Alex laughs and pulls her in, lowering her head slowly, as if to kiss her. Piper almost grabs her impatiently when Alex’s name rings out in the hallway.

“Hey Vause!”

Alex whips her head around to find the source of the voice – it sounds like Boo, and it sounds like it’s coming from the far end of the corridor. Her laugh gets louder as she approaches, and Alex just keeps shaking her head and reaching into her back pocket.

“What’s going on?” asks Piper, licking at her lips.

“Just wait.”

When Boo gets close enough, Piper can see she is smiling. “So. Pay up, Vause,” Boo’s saying, grinning wider.

 _What in the world?_ Piper watches as Alex rolls her eyes, takes out her wallet and shoves money into Boo’s open hands before giving Boo a high-five. Piper thinks she has an inkling as to _what_ just happened, but she decides to prod some more anyhow.

“ _Okay._ What was that about?”

Alex just takes her hand in hers, gives it a little kiss. “Winning.”  #

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured this is a good space as any to leave this piece. I would like to thank all of you who stuck to this, despite the erratic schedule of my updates (hehe) and the hairpulling moments. Thank you. I apologize if I had not been able to respond to each of your comments -- it's been a messy couple of months, and truth be told, writing 'execution' has been the bright spot that tided me over. Thanks for joining me in this ride. May we meet again. (Hinthint) =)


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